The Reaper
by The Vilified
Summary: "Let us not pray to be sheltered from dangers, but to be fearless when facing them." Michael, a trainer from Johto, joins a special forces group to help rid the world of evil. But he never would have believed where that very fight would lead him, or how it would affect both him and those he loves. Contains violence/gore, swearing, and lemons (pokémon x human).
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

 **Well, I've decided to test out my writing skills through this story. This is my first attempt at writing anything, so any criticism is definitely appreciated. I've already got most of a significant part this story written out, so updates will not be infrequent; mostly, I'll be typing, editing, and revising content that I've already developed. What's more is that this will be one of 3-4 "books," as I have at least two sequels planned for this story. All in all, it's safe to say that this will probably be around 1,000,000 words, maybe even more.**

 **Now, a few fair warnings. This is clearly an action-centric story, so I'm hoping it is understood that this** _ **will**_ **have violence, and some disturbing things in it. That being said, nothing here will be** _ **intolerable**_ **, but still disturbing. Sorry to say, but that's war. Another thing, lemons are going to be a difficult area for me, being such that I have never written before. Though it's going to be awkward, I will try, and if I am not good at those particular scenes, maybe I could get in touch with another writer to help me out. So that, violence and swearing clearly make this M-rated. Don't say I didn't warn you.**

 **One thing I have noticed while reading various stories on this site is the common "don't like, don't read" warning. I would say that that is applicable to this story - for the reasons listed above, and one other thing. This story is going to also be innately political. It won't be too relevant for quite a bit, but you'll see it spring up every now and then, alongside moral ideology. So I'm sure many of you may be wondering what the siding is of this story. A lot of readers might be surprised to find out that _The Reaper_ and the planned sequels have a conservative leaning to them. That said, there will probably be things that everyone sees here that they may not like or agree with. And that's alright; it's perfectly common for rational people to not see eye-to-eye on this kind of stuff. But I also want you all to keep this in mind: viewpoints change - sometimes even drastically. I can say without a doubt that the majority of you have embraced opinions that you didn't support years ago. Again, this is natural. Views are apt to change over time, and that will be present in this story as well. One other thing that I want to state - and this is not only important in reading this story, but also in day to day life - is that there have been shitty people from all sides of the political spectrum. Whether it be the fascists of Europe and the Middle East to the communists throughout the USSR and Asia, every extremist point on the spectrum has wrongfully spilled blood. This story also serves as a big middle finger to the intolerance and moral bankruptcy of extremists on all sides. **

**Alright, now that all that's out of the way, I have a few disclaimers. I know this might sound shocking, but I am not the creator or owner of Pokémon. That would be Nintendo and Game Freak, so we can be grateful to them that we even have this content to fictionalize. I have not sought revenue or recognition in the creation of this fanfic, as it was purely for entertainment. Also (not sure if I need to include this or not), I do not own any of the real-life products in this story - mainly talking about firearm brands, such as Smith and Wesson, Heckler and Koch, Israeli Weapons Industries, and CZ. Sadly, I'm not in charge of any of those companies either. :(**

 **Now, as a side note, I am trying to make this story as realistic as possible. That being said, I have actually changed a few things from the core series, though I think you will all agree that they are not significant changes. First thing's first, think of a single Pokédollar as a US Dollar. I know that the series prices are probably more aligned with the Japanese Yen, but most of us are from North America, so I'm doing everything in terms that we more closely understand. So a regular pokéball might cost** **Ᵽ20 or something. Also, the dex entries... holy crap. How has _anything_ managed to survive on the entire planet when every other pokémon can destroy skyscrapers or mountains with no effort? If the dex were even remotely accurate, the seas would be a tidal mess of destruction, cities could be toppled in two seconds, and there would probably be no mountains (also, larvitar would not be helping in this regard). Sorry, but they are _all_ getting nerfed in this story. They are still significantly stronger than humans obviously, but they won't be able to destroy half the planet with a flick of their thumb (looking at you in particular, legendaries).**

 **Also, some other authors and I have created a Discord server, where we talk about story ideas and generally just have a good time. If you are interested in joining, shoot me a PM, as I can't post link info on FFN for some reason.**

 **Special thanks to OnixTymime for the cover page! I strongly suggest that you check her out if you want artwork commissioned. If you would like, I will provide you with her contact information. Just shoot me a PM.**

 **Additional artwork and information about the story is available at the Discord server. Of course, Fanfiction limits you to one picture per story, and there are some things that I can't physically post here (such as political charts), so if you'd like to see more content, then feel free to join the Discord chat with the others and I!**

 **Enjoy reading, because I sure enjoyed writing.**

* * *

 **"When you're going through hell, keep going."**

 **\- Winston Churchill**

* * *

 **Ch. 1 - The Making of a Militant**

Sweat rolled down his face, making its way into his eyes, burning and clouding his field of vision. His knuckles were chapped from the frigid mountain air, cracked and bleeding from the continuous labor. His blurred vision could pick up the ground, before retracting away once more. His superior, however, strode across as though nothing was amiss, stopping before a fallen individual. He wasn't moving. Prodding him harshly with his foot, the man above them all motioned for another. Within seconds, the unconscious person was taken up, carried away from the rest.

He held his position - even the smallest of mistakes, and he could pay for it. Not that he wasn't already paying. His body threatened to give way as he nervously glanced at the superior, now standing above him.

"Down!" he barked. Not wanting to do anything that could increase his current misery, he went down once more. The others followed suit.

"Up!" With fire lancing throughout his muscles, he did as he was told. The superior stood, immune to the cold, immune to their suffering. His daunting, upright figure seemed to taunt them. How could anyone possibly be so indifferent to their pain? He noticed another collapse in his peripheral. The man strode up to him.

"Get up." The fallen individual muttered something unintelligible, harshly gripping the trodden snow beneath him. "Did I fucking stutter? Get the hell up!"

"I… c-can't," he gasped. "I can't…do this anymore." Another arrived, waiting for confirmation.

"Get his weak ass outta here. He's not fit for this." Just like the one before him, he too was picked up and dragged away from the others. Their numbers were dwindling, having lost seven that day. _At this rate, we won't have any left_.

"Down!" He did as he was instructed, short of breath. The superior, walking past him, kicked snow into his face. Even with freezing temperatures, the sweat came through from enough exertion. The cold flakes stung as they impacted him. Holding his position, he too threatened to collapse at any given moment. _No_ , he thought, _this is my doing. This is what I chose._

 **. . . . .**

The orange, rocky outcropping and littered grasslands gave way to thick, lush woods. Few wayward trainers wandered about - some looking for battles, others traveling similarly to him. With the sun shining through the few scattered-about clouds, it was a beautiful day in Hoenn.

A seventeen year old trudged along Route 111. He cast a glance to his side, taking in the sight of his wonderful, loyal team, each going about their own activities, somewhat unfocused on the path ahead of them. Not that he could blame them; the path they had been trekking across was mostly uneventful, the only excitement being the infrequent battle or two.

Charlotte, his first partner and starter, was his braixen. She was quite bold - never intimidated by anyone that had a size advantage over her, and could definitely bring the heat in a battle. Alongside that, her cunningness brought frustration to many of her opponents. Visibly bored with their endeavor, she was twirling her stick around like a baton in an attempt to amuse herself, an almost unwavering flame confined within the fork of the stick at the end, creating a quick orange streak in the air. One wavering motion and she almost struck the adjacent glaceon, causing her to duck.

Elise yipped, shooting a questioning, even unhappy, glare at Charlotte, who simply shrugged and set the stick back in its place on her tail. Elise was very timid by nature, even around the teammates she had become so familiar with, though she had no problems felling her foes. Opting not to get burnt in the chance that Charlotte decided to continue her activities, she edged closer to her trainer, brushing against his leg.

Layla paced ahead of them, steadily putting one foot in front of the other and in a straight line, keeping both eyes closed in the process. A lucario, she was practicing her balance, showing few signs of stumbling. _She looks like she's trying to pass a sobriety test_ , he mused to himself. Of course, using no vision at all is _much_ harder than using disoriented vision when trying to accomplish such a task. Layla was keen of focus - a true fighter, but always gentle to her teammates and trainer.

Finally, his ace - Veronica the flygon - was gliding effortlessly through the air. She was significantly larger and stronger than the average member of her species, nearing seven and a half feet in height, and weighing well over three-hundred pounds. She was vicious in battle, and even held a hotheaded demeanor. A bit temperamental, but sweet when she wanted to be, nonetheless.

They were planning on going to Lavaridge Town to continue the Hoenn gym challenge. Four badges down, they had worked their way from the southwest corner of the region - starting at Dewford, followed by Rustboro, Petalburg, and Mauville, respectively. Though half of his team was weak to fire types, he was not concerned in the slightest about their upcoming gym battle. The girls were each strong enough to give Flannery a run for her money - combined, she wouldn't stand a chance. _None of these guys are like the gym leaders back home…_

No, they were not originally from the Hoenn region. This wasn't even their first league challenge. They had been forged from the competitiveness of Johto, where the gym leaders were among the best in the world. Through much effort and nearly a year's worth of traveling and training, they had managed to collect all eight gym badges, granting them access to the the Indigo League's Elite Four, so that they could prove their strength to the champion.

…And if only it had been that simple. That was probably the first crushing reality he ever got. Just like every trainer out there, he had dreams of standing alongside his team as they triumphed over the league champion. But when they got there - when they battled those people - they soon learned that Lance could not have been further away.

Despite all their hard work, they met a startling realization - a realization that most trainers that had gotten that far had undoubtedly met. These four masters had had _decades_ to master the art of training, while he had only been at it for one. The gym leaders were of little preparation for such battles - they were required to compete at about _your_ level of experience, so they had to switch their teams around, depending on how many badges you had. Elite Four members, however, had no such restriction. They could use whatever pokémon they wanted, and with years of experience in the field, each of them were opponents to be feared.

Their first run through struck a hard blow to their pride, especially because they weren't used to losing. Will had given them quite the fight, but after a twenty minute long battle, Veronica had managed to outmaneuver his xatu.

After their allotted day to recover, they moved on to Koga… and didn't even make it halfway through his team. They had no type advantages aside from Veronica's ground typing, and he had played things very defensively. This wore the girls out pretty quickly, allowing him to utilize their tired states into getting crucial hits on them. It seemed that as their campaign towards the champion had started, it had ended just as quickly.

They weren't discouraged, though. They went over key flaws in their performance, seeking to better their weaknesses. So, they trained and battled for weeks in and around Victory Road, readying themselves for another attempt.

Will was surprisingly elated to see them again - wanting to see if he could manage to defeat the trainer that had gotten past him. After all, the vast majority of trainers were stopped in their tracks by him, and as such, he wasn't used to suffering a loss. In a similar manner to them, he had also wanted a rematch, so that he may see if he had overcome the faults that had let victory flee from his grasp last time. So, they clashed once more.

He too had learned from his mistakes, as evident by their battle. Just like the first one, this fight came down to the wire, and took significantly more time. But unlike last time, Will had emerged victorious. This time, they had been shut out by the very first member.

Spirits crushed, they left the league. It became obvious that they needed to reach another caliber altogether if they were to compete with the best. That was when it hit them - they were trying to beat the best, most renowned league within all of the regions. Maybe, they could fare better if they tried _another_ region.

So, here they were in Hoenn, embarking on another campaign. Everything had been going smoothly, and they had trampled the gym leader's very best teams. With nothing standing in their way, they continued on towards Lavaridge Town.

Not looking, he stumbled over a tree root in the path, forcing himself to react quickly to keep from falling over. He stumbled forth, but then caught himself. His wallet, though, which was in the pocket on the bottom right side of his cargo shorts, fell out, releasing a few of its contents onto the ground.

He knelt down and began placing the scattered bills and various other things back inside the wallet. Lastly, he picked up his trainer card and dusted it off. The name "Michael Higgs" was displayed in prominent, bold lettering.

 **. . . . .**

Nighttime reached them before long, bathing the mountains with silver light, making the trees an uninterrupted shadow. They pitched the large tent in a relatively small clearing in the midst of the woods, as they didn't like to set up camp in view of the main road. With some help from Charlotte, he had set up a decently sized fire, their dinner cooking above it.

With his build, Michael was able to carry a fairly large pack, and with a large dragoness on his team, there was definitely the ability to carry a good deal of supplies. With a broad frame, Michael stood at 5'10 and weighed over 210 pounds, with mostly muscle defining his features.

He set up the tent, large enough to house each of them, and set up the sleeping bags. Because of their constant traveling, they were pretty tired. On the bright side, at their current rate, it would only take one more day to reach Lavaridge. Even after one night without, a warm shower and a real bed were welcome changes, but those were things you sometimes forfeited when engaging in a trainer lifestyle.

Sleep seemed out of grasp that night. Michael, staring straight up at the crest of the tent, listened to the outside sounds. Nocturnal species filled the air with their calls, both howling and hooting permeating the silence. Unlike most people, he did not feel threatened in the slightest. Attacks on humans were incredibly rare - most pokémon wouldn't dare to try such an action. And if anything decided to try its luck, it would find a nasty surprise waiting for it - in the form of four pissed off opponents. But laying beside Michael, out of clear sight, was something that could end an enemy quicker than any other pokémon. Something that he had jumped through a lot of legal loopholes to bring with him.

A chill ran up his spine, despite the blanket keeping him plenty warm. Something didn't feel right, but he couldn't decide what it was. Figuring he wasn't going to get any sleep, Michael reflected back to their journeys. Immediately, resentful gym leaders and trainers filled his mind, as well as his failure towards the Four, which left particularly bitter traces of thought. But replacing his short term anger, memories of meeting each of the girls flooded his mind.

 **. . . . .**

At the time he was barely sixteen, he could remember walking across the stage. His cobalt cap and gown displayed his and his classmates' achievements in graduating from Lumiose University - the school known across the regions for its rigorous academia.

Kalos had many political faults, but the education system was unrivaled from any other region's. They had designed the system for specialization rather than generalization, focusing on the classes that the students wanted. How many contractors would find use for college level chemistry courses? How many scientists used social studies? The system was also designed around the trainer lifestyle. Rather than skipping a year or two like many teens did, students at Lumiose attended full time. Six days a week, six hours a day. Their increased workload and decreased number of relative classes allowed for most of them to leave far beyond most university graduates, and early enough to undergo a long campaign in training in their teen years, if they still wished to do so. But most of them opted to go straight into the work force, some as young as fifteen.

He liked that the university figured that classes should adjust to the students, leaving them to choose what they wanted to learn and specialize in. They were granted a major and a minor, and had few other courses that were applicable to everyone - home economics, where they learned to pay bills, manage accounts, take care of a house, and the likes, as well as general history classes (though it had some noticeable bias). Other than that, though, everyone's schedule was completely dependent on their desired field. Michael chose to major in biomedical sciences, as well as minoring in mathematics. He had excelled in the biological department enough to where he had even gotten some minor recognition in the field for his entry level thesis.

Despite this, the school _definitely_ had its downsides. Given its focus on releasing students into the work force as soon as possible, everyone attending had very tight schedules that left them without many breaks at all. Aside from a few holidays, they had none. The summers that other students across the globe received as time off seemed no different to them from the winter. They attended during both; the school was continuous throughout the year. And though he'd enjoyed his field, part of him wished that he'd been educated in a more traditional way.

When he was six, his parents, wanting the best education for him, decided upon sending him there. Granted, they visited fairly often and called just about every night, but the instructors of the school saw him just as much as his real parents. His success and critical thinking allowed for him to excel there as well, though the competition was much harder. Hitting the books, he developed a love for learning, which stuck with him throughout the years, and allowed for him to graduate as the valedictorian of his class.

He gave his speech to the rest of the class before receiving his diploma, as well as getting his picture taken with the headmaster and, surprisingly, the mayor of the city. He could not have been happier at the time, and yet, these things were not what was giving him the most joy. No - he was full of anticipation, an anticipation that resulted from Professor Sycamore's word to the class.

For being at the head of the class in one of the best schools in the regions, the top three students were offered a reward - to receive a starter. But, as he had informed them, these starters were "particularly rare members of their species." His friend and roommate Alex, who he had practically spent every day of the last ten years with, would not give the subject a rest.

Alex's anticipation likely outweighed Michael's own, though he would be choosing second. Despite being best friends and doing everything together - including studying, working out - which was kind of humorous, as Alex couldn't provide the most reliable of spotters when Michael benched, nor could Michael pace nearly as well as Alex - and hanging out in general, they had both striven competitively to be the valedictorian. Michael ended up coming on top by a hair, mostly due to a particular teacher that Alex had being a poor instructor. In fact, had Alex received a better physics teacher, Michael wasn't so sure that he'd have come out on top. Many of their courses intertwined, including several of their math and science classes, but they had chosen different majors - Alex was more interested in becoming a mechanical engineer, whereas Michael had chosen biomedical sciences as his main interest.

So, once the ceremony was finished, they left for the subway, boarding the train as it arrived in its timely manner. The interior would have put even Unova's public transportation system to shame - another field in which Kalos had diverted significant funding towards. They sat across from one another on the elongated benches, Alex rhythmically tapping the metal post that one would hold on to if required to stand.

"Would you cut that out?" Michael asked, somewhat irritated after only a short moment of tolerating it.

"Sorry man, I'm just a bit nervous," he replied.

"A bit?"

"Alright, maybe a lot."

"I can get that. I mean, we are about to choose our first partners and all." As much as he tried to conceal it, Michael was impatient as well.

"Yeah," Alex mumbled, looking slightly dazed, before snapping back into reality. "Hoping to get a froakie. What do you think that he meant when he was talking about these starters? He mentioned them being rare."

"How should I know?" Michael asked. "Not like I've seen 'em."

"True."

"But," Michael continued, "he made a pretty big to-do about it. It could be anything."

The train ride, though quite familiar, seemed to stretch out longer than either of them wanted before finally coming to a rest at their stop. They hopped off and walked to the city's laboratory, which also doubled as the professor's house. He was waiting for them, leaning against the side of the door, clad in a slightly messy lab coat, though he was always one to keep a good appearance displayed. His golden belt buckle reflected the light of the descending sun, making it shine more prominently.

"Boys! So good to see you two! Congratulations on graduating top of your class!"

"Thanks professor," Alex responded. Michael knew him well enough to know that he was doing all he could to avoid sounding like an overwhelmed child on Christmas Eve. "Say, where's Stacy? She's late." The third in the class was nowhere to be seen, which was odd, as she was almost never late.

"I don't know, I told her the exact time to arrive," Sycamore shrugged. "No use us waiting out here. Let's head inside." He opened one of the large wooden doors at the main entrance - mahogany by the looks of it - and stepped inside, the two graduates following suit and closing it behind them.

"So, how is this supposed to work?" asked Michael.

"Well," the professor replied, " I'm going to display the three Kalos starters. Once one is picked, I'll head to the back and pick up another member of its species - that way you won't be forced to settle for a starter you don't want."

"That's a good idea," Alex commented as they made their way through the lengthy building. Sycamore turned to Michael, changing the subject.

"So Michael, I must say that I am thoroughly impressed with your work. Your essay about the correspondence to genetic adaptation and unusual move inheritance was quite the rage within the local biological community. Your theories actually helped me with my research towards the pokémon in the area."

"Thank you," Michael replied. "Evolution always captured my attention… well, microevolution."

"Eh, micro, macro - same thing," he chuckled.

"But we can't prove macro in any significant organisms. It's just a theory," he retorted, though not disrespectfully.

"Wait, are you meaning to tell me you are the creationist type?" the professor asked, shocked.

"Yeah," Michael said.

"Wow, wouldn't have taken a premier youth in science to be religious…"

"Well, he's not alone on that one," Alex chipped in.

"You too?"

"Yep."

"Well, I guess I could expect that one - you engies always are the weird type," he joked. "Never know what you'll get with one of them."

"Hey!"

"Relax, I was only messing with you," Sycamore replied. "You two feel free to believe whatever you want, and I will do the same." They had finally neared his desk, which was covered in various papers, notes, reports, and a half-empty coffee cup, likely from morning. Three balls laid in plain sight in front of three tablets. He removed his lab coat and set it over his chair, furnished with fine leather. He took the balls in his hands, enlarging them to full size. "Michael, you're up first." Sycamore pushed the central buttons on the spherical containers, releasing their captives. The tablets lit up. From what Michael saw, the professor had not been exaggerating when he said the starters were rare.

At the left, a chespin stood proudly, standing as tall as he could, as though called to attention in the military. It looked average enough for a chespin, but a quick look at its arsenal of moves was enough to put that thought to rest. Sporting the moves wood hammer, solar beam, quick guard, synthesis, spikes, and shadow claw, he was ready to take on the world, almost daring anyone to underestimate him. _I'd probably never have to teach him another move_ , thought Michael. _He's all set up._

The froakie, had access to water pulse, bounce, and even camouflage, putting it on a great path as well. What set this one majorly apart, though was its color scheme. It was a shiny. Without turning around, he could almost feel Alex coveting it. _How in the world did he actually manage to get one of those?  
_

Lastly, he looked over the fennekin. Its fur was somewhat unkempt, it looked up at him, noticeably shy. No - not completely shy. Was it scared? His gaze darted to the tablet, looking for information about it. Its moves consisted of ember, scratch and tail whip, leaving it with only a standard starter's moveset. In fact, the only thing that even seemed to set this fennekin apart from other members of its species was that it was female.

"About that one…" Sycamore began. "I must apologize, but I couldn't seem to get ahold of any fennekins that had overwhelmingly rare traits like the others. Sorry about that," he nervously stated.

"Not a problem at all," Michael replied. He noticed out of his peripheral that the fennekin's ears drooped. He carefully considered his options - a superstar, a shiny, and…a female. "Give me a moment to think please."

"Take your time," the professor said. He looked over the three options, knowing that there would be no going back once he made his choice. He could imagine himself winning many battles with that chespin, knowing full well the power that it already had, and that would only continue to grow. But then again, the sheer rareness of the Froakie enthralled him. Most people went their whole lives - their only view of a shiny from the other end of a screen. And the fennekin… she could be anything. It was impossible to tell. _Hmm…the froakie looks pretty appealing… but I don't think I could do that to Alex…_ Michael looked over at the chespin, who was still staring straight ahead. _Damn, he really is a little soldier. I think that I'll pick him._ He cast a glance back towards the fennekin, but noticed that it stared straight down, unable to meet his gaze. That moment, he knew that she knew that she was not his decision. She was, in all honesty, outclassed by the other two. _No… I don't even care about battling. She looks like she needs it most._

"I've made my decision," Michael said.

"Alright," Sycamore replied. "Who do you pick to be your partner?" Michael looked back at the fenekkin, who was visibly saddened.

"I choose fennekin." As soon as the words left his mouth, her head snapped up, mouth agape.

"Well... alright then." the professor asked. _Why in the hell should he be shocked about my decision?_ Deciding to let the matter go, he nodded.

"Yes, I do." Her eyes were wide, moisture welling up inside them. _Is she… about to cry?_ With a yip, she jumped straight up into him, being caught in his arms. A large smile on the fox's face, she proceeded in licking his, making him laugh. He hugged her tightly, but not in a constricting manner to her small frame. Her head poked up near his neck, and she seemingly couldn't resist the urge to nuzzle him.

"A..alright," Sycamore stuttered. "Well, you're up next, Alex." Without a second though, he responded.

"I choose froakie!" he said, a bit louder than called for. Now, he _definitely_ couldn't contain his joy. The professor walked over to Alex and handed him the froakie's ball before making his way towards Michael to do the same. He paused for a moment, then dropped the fennekin's ball into his hand.

"Heeeeeeey! Sorry I'm late!" It was none other than Stacy, who finally decided to show up. Sycamore, startled, faced her. "Looks like it's my turn to pick," she said with a smile.

"Yes, give me a moment," Professor Sycamore replied. "I need to get another froakie and fennekin so that you will have a choice between all three starters."

"Oh, no need for that - I always wanted a chespin." She knelt before the grass-type, who still didn't budge. "Look at you! So cute and hardcore at the same time!" Despite his attempts, the chespin couldn't withhold a small blush. She hugged him, catching him off guard. Giving in, his small tail began to wag, if only slightly.

"Well," Sycamore sighed, "I guess that settles everything." He went over to a shelf on the side wall, grabbing three devices. "Here are each of your pokédexes."

"Thanks," they replied in unison.

"Each of you be sure to treat your pokémon with love and care." The words came out with some uneasiness, much to Michael's confusion.

"You can count on it," he replied, giving the fennekin a loving rub on the head.

"Same here," Stacy said.

"Well, I'd better get back to my work. You all take care."

"Bye professor," she said. They each headed to the door, exiting out into the streets. The sun had progressed in its setting, bathing both the city and streets in red-orange hues. Stacy went off on her own way before long, leaving the other two, who began to make their way back to the station.

"Hey Michael?"

"Hmm?"

"Not to be rude to your new partner or anything… but why did you make your choice?" The froakie, who was scampering about the ground, looked up, its curiosity piqued, as did the fennekin, who turned over in his arms, swapping to a more "cradled" position so that she could look at him. He looked down at her.

"Because… picking her just felt right." She darted up to his cheek and gave him a swift lick, followed by a warm growl. "And I would say that I made the right choice," he said, rubbing her head.

 **. . . . .**

He had gotten Elise mere days later. After graduation, his parents had departed once more for Johto, whereas he stayed back in order to get things in order for moving back. The vast majority of his belongings were packed up and shipped back to his parents' home in Blackthorn. He had all but forgotten what living there had been like, life in the mountainous area being distant memories. Still, he anticipated returning, as he had never been able to adjust to the city life, despite the "Lumiose lifestyle" ranging throughout most of his development. As such, he had decided to move back to Johto for some time.

After everything was packed up, his parents paid for a cruise for him to catch on the way back as his graduation present. A week passed by, the boat leisurely drifting about the sea. He and Charlotte had found the cruise enjoyable at first, but were eager to step off once it had docked in Olivine's ports. White paint was being eaten away from the wood, peeling off from the salt water's contact. The next day, they were to depart for Blackthorn on an all-day flight. With the night to waste away, they lounged about the market. Various stands were set up, some longer than others and with more merchandise. Products of several sorts were sold, ranging from battle items to produce, as well as some decorative items.

Holding Charlotte within folded arms, he tossed their empty cones into a nearly full trashcan. She had not particularly enjoyed her flavor, and opted to try Michael's… before proceeding to eat the rest of it. Not that he minded, but he did kind of find it humorous. They made their way along the side of the fence, deciding to turn in for the night in one of the dozens and dozens of local inns, which had made a very good business out of renting rooms to travelers.

A yip from Charlotte alerted him. He looked down, noticing her motioning over to the side. Alongside the fading white fence was a makeshift stand, consisting of nothing much more than a pair of folding tables, covered with an assortment of goods - miscellaneous pokéballs, a few TMs, a bike with a couple of dents in it. The man selling the items wore a stained t-shirt and ripped jeans. _This seems sketchy…_ Confirming his thought was an inhabited cage, an eevee lying on its side. It was sleeping rather uneasily.

"Ya gonna buy somethin'?" the salesman, if he could even be called that, asked. His breath smelled of cheap chewing tobacco, yellowed teeth confirming the detrimental addiction. Michael shot him a questioning look.

"…Maybe…Is this even legal?" he asked. The man chuckled, though it turned into a wheezing cough.

"Completely. Bunch'a used goods and an eevee I nabbed a couple a days ago." _More like stolen goods…_ Still, he couldn't help but look at the eevee, who had stirred upon hearing the conversation.

"How much for the eevee?" That definitely got the Pokémon to perk up.

"A thousand, no less." He thought it over - he didn't really have much more than that, his account currently containing to only a couple hundred more than that amount. Buying the eevee would surely expend most of his cash, and it certainly seemed like an illicit transaction. He made eye contact with it, noticing its dirty mane, which had adopted a more dusty appearance, its naturally white color being tarnished. _Probably hasn't been bathed…_ "It's definitely a fair price," continued the man, "considering the fact that it's a girl." She continued to stare at him hopefully. _I can't leave her here,_ he thought to himself.

"Alright, I'll take her," he said, pulling out his wallet. Placing most of his money on the table, he was handed the cage, as well as the key to it.

"Sorry kid, ball's extra."

"Don't worry about it," Michael muttered, "I've got some." He hurriedly made his way away from the place and towards the inn that he had booked a reservation for, highly contemplating calling the cops on the man. _But…I don't have any proof that he's doing anything illicit…and he'd probably be gone by the time they found him anyways…_

With the sun setting, Michael entered the lobby of the inn, checking in at the front desk. The inn had really embraced the seashore theme, with light blue wallpaper, strung seashells, and various paintings of ships, water pokémon, and Olivine's famous lighthouse complimented one another to convey what one would expect in such an environment. After receiving his room key, as well as an awkward stare, which he attributed to carrying a caged pokémon in there, he headed to his room.

Once inside, he shut the door and immediately headed to the bathroom with the cage still in hand. Charlotte trotted behind curiously. Shutting the bathroom door and with all of them inside, he unlocked the small prison. He slowly, gingerly, picked up the eevee. It felt rather light. _She looks like she's been through quite a bit… I think she's malnourished…_ He set her aside gently and ran the water, flicking the switch, making the drain close up. Grabbing the eevee once more, he set her inside and lathered her with shampoo, scrubbing out the dirt and grime. She sighed from the treatment, letting him know he was doing something right. Within moments, he had to empty the water, with it being far too dirty to cleanse. He filled it once more, starting a cycle that last nearly fifteen minutes. He scrubbed the soap deeply within her hair, lathering her from head to toe thoroughly, though going quickly around certain areas. Finally, he emptied the water one last time. He took her out and dried her off, her hair glistening.

After that, he gave Charlotte a quick bath, though hers did not take half as long - she was not nearly as dirty. Once he had dried her off as well, he opened the door.

"You two wait here," he said, before leaving their room altogether. Before long, he reappeared, carrying two bags with him as he walked through the door. The two had been conversing with each other, but stopped once he had returned. He had ran out before they could close shop and purchased several different kinds of berries, as well as a few groceries from the nearby pokémart. He put together a quick meal for them, creating nice berry salad. The eevee quickly downed her portion; Michael topping her bowl once more. She went right back at it - as though she hadn't eaten in days. _That crook really didn't take care of her._ The thought of the man neglecting her in a cage infuriated him. Charlotte couldn't help but stare, he noticed, at the eevee devouring the food. He sat down with his own meal, which consisted of a burger he'd grabbed in a hurry from a fast food joint.

"Take it easy," he advised. "Wouldn't want you to make yourself sick." She looked embarrassed at her behavior. "No one's gonna take it from ya," he reassured.

After dinner, he took a shower of his own, changed into a set of pajamas, and fell back on the bed, tired from a day of nonstop traveling, though he'd face a similar predicament tomorrow. He felt that now would be a good time to talk to the eevee, to try and get her to open up. He reached down, holding his arm out for Charlotte, and brought her up to join him on the bed, as they usually did. The eevee looked at them with curiosity.

"C'mon up here with us," he said. Similarly to before, he pulled her up. "So," he began, although quietly, "I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume he didn't take good care of you…" She looked down, then shook her head, confirming his suspicions. "Well, I'm sorry that you got caught up in that situation," he said. "You are free to go where you want. You don't have to stay with us if you wanna go back into the wild." He only felt that it was fair to give her the option of whether to join his team or not, even though she cost a great deal of money. If he restricted her freedom, he reasoned, he wouldn't be any better than the man who sold her. She looked at him curiously, then looked down. "Tell ya what, go ahead and sleep on it. There's no rush to make a decision." She faintly nodded, and he decided that he'd turn in for the night. Charlotte, like she had been doing for the last few days, laid against his side, her head against the crook of his shoulder. He couldn't help but notice in the corner of his eye the eevee staring at them intensely, before curling up into a ball under the blankets.

The next morning, his alarm on his phone went off, waking them all up. The eevee looked understandably irritated at the shrill sound - that was probably the best sleep she'd gotten in awhile.

"Sorry for the alarm," he told her. "We have to get ready and catch a flight." He got his stuff together, which wasn't very time consuming, and walked up to the front desk. After checking out and turning in his key, he left the inn. Before long, the airport came into site, barely visible due to the darkness of the early hours. The woods were off to the left. He turned around and knelt, bringing him much closer to the level of the eevee.

"This is where we head off. The choice is yours whether you join us or not," he said. "If I denied you that, then I'd be just as bad as that guy who sold you. That, and if you join us, I want to know that that is what you wanted and not what you were forced into." She looked over to the woods intensely, then back at him. "I'm sorry to rush you like this," he admitted, "I know it's a pretty significant choice to make." Indeed, choosing where one would be spending their life in a matter of moments was quite pressing. Michael secretly hoped she'd tag along, but would think nothing bad of the eevee if she wanted to go back into the wild. _Although_ , he thought, _It doesn't matter what I'd think of her, since I'd likely never see her again_.

She took a few steps off the path towards the woods. _Looks like she's made her decision…_ But before he could stand up, a blur harshly impacted his chest, sending him to the ground. The eevee, both paws at the side of his head, was licking his face.

"Hahaha, okay, okay." He took her small frame into his arms and sat up. Setting her down, he dusted himself off. "You wanna come with us?" She nodded vigorously, so he pulled out a luxury ball. He kept a few on him, which he had received from a wealthier friend back in Kalos, and opted to capture any pokémon in them, as they were reportedly much nicer inside. Not that he was fond of keeping any pokémon inside one of those things without a good reason. He pressed the ball against her head, and she disappeared into the red beam with a giggle. The well-known _ding_ sounded, confirming the capture. He immediately released her. "How do you feel about having a friend to tag along, Char?" She let out a happy yip, nuzzling into the eevee, who returned the friendly gesture.

 **. . . . .  
**

Once he had arrived at Blackthorn, he signaled a cab. His parents lived in the corner of the northeast suburbs, which was about ten miles away from the central city - where the airport, pokécenter and pokémart, and gym resided. Fortunately, the only city in the region that was _really_ packed was Goldenrod. Most people preferred the suburbs on the outskirts of the cities rather than city apartments, so large-scale urbanization had not occurred in Johto like it had in the other regions. He liked it better that way - it was much more spacious than what he had gotten used to in Lumiose. He looked through the window, Elise and Charlotte propped up on his lap and doing the same. They watched the scenery with great interest - houses, businesses, streets that had been but faint memories. Some buildings had changed, of course - that much was to be expected in ten years, but most was as it had been when he left. Despite the small nature of the urbanized sector of the city, it was still abuzz, people going about their nightly activities. _This entire place would probably be like a couple blocks in Lumiose_ , he thought. There were only half a dozen schools, each ranging from kindergarten to high, in the entire Blackthorn, whereas Lumiose had to have close to seventy on account of its overwhelming population. City buildings gave way into houses as they transitioned into the suburbs. It was an ironic dilemma that he found himself discovering his homeland.

The taxi pulled up at the side of the street in front of the given address, his parents standing at the doorway, waiting for him, and approaching when the vehicle pulled up.

"Thanks," Michael said, paying the fee and tipping the driver. Getting out, he got his luggage out of the trunk, consisting of his backpack and a couple of suitcases.

"Welcome back son," his dad said, grabbing the two suitcases. The taxi drove away, leaving them to themselves. "I see you've gotten yourself a couple of pokémon. Hope you know how to take care of them."

"I do," he replied. "But they aren't like children - they don't need coddling, and they haven't given me any trouble." Neither of his parents had been trainers when they grew up, so he didn't expect them to know much about having a pokémon.

"Well, no use in us standing out here," his mother said. "Let's go inside. I've just finished dinner." Michael and the two girls were hungry, as they had to grab a quick breakfast before their flight, and lunch on the flight had been rather unsatisfactory, even more so considering the portions they gave to the smaller pokémon. He ended up giving most of his food to the girls, claiming that he wasn't very hungry. After they ate, Pokémon were required to go back into their balls, much to their dismay - especially since there were empty seats around him.

After they ate, they all went back to his room. Just like the rest of the house, his room had undergone several changes - mostly a bigger bed, a plasma screen TV, and an empty desk. The room had been repainted - a light beige, which was also a welcome change from it's previous color. It used to be blue if he could recall correctly.

"What do you think?" his dad asked.

"I think it's awesome. Thank you both for all this."

"No problem, honey," his mom said. "Now you three best get to sleep."

"Yeah, rest up," his dad added. "Tomorrow I'll show ya' around town." He left, reappearing a moment later with a large pet bed.

"Oh, that won't be necessary," Michael said.

"Where do you expect them to sleep?" his dad asked, visibly confused.

"In the bed with me. Where else?"

"You let them sleep with you?" his mom asked.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I? I let them sleep wherever they want."

"...Alright then. Well, goodnight," his dad said, taking the bed out with him.

"Goodnight." After a quick shower, he slipped on a pair of gym shorts to lounge around in, and unpacked most of his luggage. Both Charlotte and Elise had already darted into the bed, burrowed under the covers. He chuckled, joining them underneath. As usual, Charlotte snuggled into his side. Elise looked at him, yipping out in question.

"You want in?" She nodded shyly. "Come on," he said, giving her a friendly smile. She brushed up against him, settling into his other side. Soon, they were asleep.

 **. . . . .**

As he had said, his father showed him around town the next day. Touring the city's ins and outs served to familiarize him with the area once more, reminding him of his real home. Kalos was an okay region by his standards (though it would be much better if most of its politicians crawled in a hole and died), but Johto, with its scenery and ideals, was the only region he would ever consider home. He was snapped out of his reverie when they pulled up to a particular store. He looked at the sign - Blackthorn Outdoor and Sporting Goods.

"Hate to tell ya' this, but.." he nodded to the eevee and fennekin. "It's store policy…"

"Girls, I'm gonna need to put you in the balls for a little bit." They sighed, a slight pout on their faces, but nodded. "Don't worry, it won't be for long." He withdrew their balls and returned them. "What is it that we're doing here?" he asked.

"You'll see," his father responded, stepping out of the truck. He followed suit, and soon they had walked into the large store, Michael treading behind his father through the aisles. They approached several large cases in the back, displaying handguns of every kind, and rifles behind the counter. "The cruise was your mom's idea for your graduation. This is mine."

"A gun?"

"Yeah. You never know when you could be involved in a situation where you need to protect yourself. You are familiar with the inter-regional acceptance laws, right?"

"Yeah." Each of the regions, though they often disagreed with each other in political decision making, agreed to acknowledge the records, privileges, and immunities as each other. Jotho was a very conservative region - the polar opposite of Kalos. The law in regards to this stated that only an adult could purchase a handgun, normally setting the age minimum to 21. However, according to Kalos - a region where he couldn't even own a handgun - he was an adult on account of being able to enter the work force, due to the advanced school in which he graduated from. Under that logic, though he hadn't thought it over, he would be given admission to purchase a handgun, though they required everyone to take a background check.

"So, pick one out," his father said, motioning to the cases. He looked over the options. He was very familiar with guns - it had become a very interesting field to him, an interest that was somewhat disliked by most Kalosians, as even hunting rifles were rare. Yes, the politicians had done a very good job of making the people incapable of defending themselves - especially if they didn't have a pokémon.

Going from case to case, he looked over the choices. Due to the large variety of weapons, he felt that it would be better to decide what _kind_ of a handgun he would like. Of course, this led him to the classic "pistol or revolver" dilemma. Thinking it over, he decided to go with a revolver, as they were incredibly reliable, more powerful, and easier to operate. Even though they couldn't hold nearly as many bullets as a pistol could, it wasn't like he'd be fighting off swarms of people with one. No, it was unlikely he'd ever even fire a shot in a confrontational fight, but better safe than sorry. Revolver in mind, he narrowed down his options. _Hmm… .357, .44, or .45 Colt… well, .357s have the cheapest and fastest ammo, and I could shoot .38 specials in it. I guess I'll go with that_. Looking over the .357s in the rightmost case, he found one that really captured his attention - a S &W 686. The seven-shot revolver had a four-inch barrel, adjustable sights, and a stainless-steel finish.

"Can I hold that one?" he asked the clerk.

"Sure, but I have to hand it to your father. Liabilities, ya' know?" He took it out, opened the cylinder, and handed it to Michael's father, who handed it to Michael. He took it and looked it over. The ergonomics felt great, so he experimentally aimed it at the wall. The revolver felt like an extension of his arm - very natural and comfortable to grip. Lastly, he pulled the hammer back, which drew back without much resistance, and brought it back down gently.

"You like that one?" his father asked.

"Yeah, it looks and feels great, and I don't think anyone would like a .357 punching through them."

"Well then, is that the one you want?" Michael nodded. "Alright."

An hour and a half later, they walked out of the store with a packaged revolver and several boxes of ammunition. He had to take a background check - understandably - which required them to check into his records from Lumiose University. After seeing that he was by far mentally capable enough to carry a gun, they registered it in his name. It was his. Hopefully, he would only have to use it for target practice.

"I must say," his father commented, "you made a pretty good choice."

"You think so?"

"Yeah - revolvers are reliable, and Smiths are well known for their quality. I have several." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a carton of cigarettes. He fished one out and pressed it against his car lighter, noticing Michael staring. "What?"

"How long have you been doing that?" Michael asked, pointing to the cigarette.

"Eh, 'bout three, four years," he replied. "Why do you ask?"

"It's not really good for you…" he trailed off.

"I've been goin' steady ever since I started. As long as it's done in moderation - only a couple a day - you'll be fine."

"Not really," Michael replied. "Carcinogens really screw a bunch of stuff up in your system. Each time you smoke, you roll the dice. You could get cancer anywhere in your respiratory system."

"Ah, good to see your biology degree came into play. I'll tread lightly." And that was the end of it. If Michael's father ever said something, he wouldn't budge from his position, and there was no way to make him do so. Thankfully, with the window down, he didn't catch any secondhand smoke, so the odor didn't ruin the ride on their part. On the way back, they stopped at a gas station. Michael, Elise, and Charlotte stepped out and looked around. Upon getting out of the vehicle, they noticed the local gym across the street and decided to check it out. They walked in the automatic doors and were surprised at what they saw. Clair and her dragonair stood before a trainer and his fainted feraligatr, who was recalled into his ball.

"You don't have anything to be ashamed of. Let them rest up, come back and give it another shot," the gym leader said. Michael wasn't sure, but he thought he may have heard a hint of arrogance in her voice. He turned around and left seconds later, presumably to go to the pokécenter. Clair recalled her dragonair and noticed them, walking their way. "Are you here to challenge me?" the middle-aged gym leader asked.

"Umm…" he looked down at the two girls, who looked up somewhat eagerly. "I hadn't really thought about battling," he admitted.

"You haven't battled yet?" she asked.

"No - I've only been a trainer for a little over a week."

"Hmm, fair enough. Tell ya what - why not have your first battle against me? I've got an opening in four days, and I'm sure I could teach you a thing or two." He thought it over - he hadn't really considered himself a trainer, or at least by the _real_ definition of the word. Though he was familiar with the logistics of battling, he hadn't considered doing it himself. And what if one of the girls got hurt? But…they looked like they wanted to do it. He figured that the choice should be up to them - after all, they _would_ be the ones fighting.

"What do you girls think?" he asked. They let out happy yips in response. "Alright, we'll do it… though I'm pretty sure we have no idea what we're doing."

"Alright, just head over there to schedule the battle," she said, motioning towards the front desk.

"Are you gonna use that dragonair by any chance?" he asked somewhat nervously.

"No, that would be cruel. League policy states that we have to compete at the caliber of our opponent - otherwise we could just crush everybody, and no one would get a badge. I will use something much closer to your level."

"That's a relief," Michael said, approaching the main desk. Clair went around and withdrew a schedule sheet, filled with various signatures, booked for different times and dates. She handed him the paper, and he signed it on the open row on the designated date.

"Well, I guess I'll see you then," she said, holding out her hand, which he shook. "I'm Clair, by the way. What's your name?"

"Michael. Nice to meet you."

"Hmm… Michael. Pretty common name around these parts. I'll try to remember it though. Anyways, you better get to training some."

"We will," he replied, before exiting. _I can't believe we just booked a gym battle… Oh well, we've got to follow through with it now…_ They walked back to the truck, which his dad was standing against, awaiting their return.

"Where'd you head off to?" he asked.

"We went and checked out the gym. We've got a battle in four days."

"Really? You looking into the whole trainer lifestyle?" his father asked.

"…I don't really know," he admitted. "I mean, I was thinking about going to work over here - maybe for the Silph HQ in Mahogany… But, I'm not so sure right now. I guess I'll see what the girls want to do." His father nodded, but said nothing.

For the next few days, he trained the best that he could with the girls. Though he knew that Clair would only use weaker Pokémon against him, he felt that they were in for a rough time. Elise knew quick attack, swift, bite, charm, and sand attack, whereas Charlotte knew ember, tail whip, flame charge, and psybeam. Even though they had trained a fair amount and had even learned new moves, he wasn't sure if they could cut it, and he dreaded the very idea of either of them getting hurt. But the day of the battle arrived, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Of course, that was the day he decided to embrace the trainer life.

He was nervous as their fight began, as he found Charlotte pitted against a dratini - a dratini that knew aqua tail. Her fire moves would prove ineffective in stopping it, and so she would have to rely on ranged attacks with psybeam. Even though he was unsure of himself as a trainer, unsure of their abilities as a team, she showed complete confidence. That's when he realized - he owed it to them to advise them in the best manner possible, so he stepped up. Though he, quite frankly, had no idea what he was doing, he did his best. Charlotte, over the course of a few minutes, heeded his warning and stayed a fair distance away from the dratini, pulling away as he tried to advance. Never close enough for an aqua tail, he got frustrated and impatient, and began using dragon rage repetitively. One impacted her, almost making her collapse - it was a powerful move at their level, after all. But, she managed to impact him with another psybeam at closer proximity, and he fainted. A bagon took its place right after it was recalled.

"Impressive. You managed to overcome a type disadvantage in your first battle," Clair said. "Now let's see if you can finish what you started." Charlotte was noticeably tired, but refused to back out. Instead, she managed to land a few hits on her opponent before a harsh Headbutt sent her to the ground. She tried to get up, but Michael would not allow her to continue, much to her dismay.

"Look girl, you've already done over half the work, and regardless of what you think, you are not fit to continue battling. Let's leave the rest of this to Elise, okay?" With a sigh, she nodded, letting Elise take her place. Michael ordered her to pick the bagon off at a distance with swift, and nail its side with a quick attack when it came closer. The strategy worked well enough at first, but the bagon adapted, hitting her with a headbutt as she came in close. Then, getting a new idea, Michael decided to try it out. As the bagon readied a dragon breath attack, he commanded Elise to use sand attack. She did, and the cloud of dust impacted the bagon's face, sending the attack off course, and disrupting her vision. With her opponent unable to attack, Elise was able to end it with a final quick attack. Overjoyed at their victory, both girls lunged into Michael, who had readied himself as soon as he saw them charging.

"I must say, you winning your first battle against me of all people is quite a shocker," Clair said.

"Well, they did all the work," he said, rubbing their heads. "I just kinda stood here."

"Not quite. A trainer is to provide support to his team, and develop a strategy that will grant them victory as effectively as possible. You seem to be very capable of that."

"Thanks, but I still don't think I did that much."

"Well, regardless of what you think, you still did earn a badge." Clair held out her hand, presenting the Rising Badge to him, the proof of their triumph over her. He took the badge, and not having any trainer gear, simply pocketed it.

"You two did great," he told Elise and Charlotte, rubbing them affectionately.

"It's rare that a challenger defeats me at any level. I'd say that you're an eligible candidate to take the test."

"Test? What test?"

"It's an exam that's held in Dragon's Den - only those given clearance may enter. It's an honor to be selected."

"I…I don't know what to say…" he stuttered.

"Then don't say anything - just take it. I think you would do very well," she said.

"Alright…I'll do it. Where is Dragon's Den? It's been so long that I've forgotten."

"It's a good ways behind the gym, right up against the mountain. Can't miss it if you're in the area. I'll be sure to contact the guard - he'll let you in when he sees you."

"I think I'll do it. Hope it isn't anything to rigorous," he said. "I just started all this."

"It isn't - it's more so an ideological evaluation. I'm sure you'll do fine." After receiving his winnings, which totaled Ᵽ500, and exchanging numbers with Clair in case they wanted a rematch, he walked back outside. His dad had been awaiting his return, pulled up at the side of the street, window rolled down. As Michael and the two girls approached, he snuffed out a cigarette.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"We won. The girls did an amazing job out there," he replied.

"Wait, you actually won? Against Clair?"

"Yeah, we beat her," he said, showing him the badge as proof to his visibly surprised father.

"I don't believe it - she's the hardest gym leader in the region…"

"Yeah, but we fought against her low leveled team - not her usual team that screws trainers over. Anyways," Michael continued, "I'll be taking some sort of test in Dragon's Den. I was thinking I could head over there tomorrow. Mind if I borrow the truck?"

"Not at all, what time?" he asked.

"Ehh, maybe around 3:00?"

"Alright, sure thing."

Soon after, they departed, heading first to the pokécenter. He got both of the girls checked, finding only a few bruises here and there. Nothing that a little bit of rest wouldn't take care of. They left towards home, His father teased him about how overly affectionate the two girls were, comparing them to 'pups always wanting to be held.' _I don't see a problem with that_ , he thought as he rubbed behind Elise's ears.

That night, he slept between the two, as had become their usual routine. Before he fell asleep, he found himself seriously considering pursuing a trainer campaign. Who said he had to go straight into the work force? Hell, this was his first _real_ break ever since graduating, and it had been some of the most enjoyable time he could remember. Both the girls and he had loved every second of the battle - the intensity, the anticipation, and he found himself wanting to do it again. He would have to stock up on trainer supplies, as he only had his license and his pokédex, but that could be settled with a trip to the pokémart. he figured he would give it a shot if the two girls wanted to try it.

 **. . . . .**

The following morning, after breakfast, he gave his two canines the proposition. It took all of about three seconds for them to yip out their approval.

"Well, I guess that settles it," he laughed. "I'll see if I can get the truck a bit earlier - that way, we can get the supplies we need before it gets dark." With a bit of coaxing to his father, Michael's request was fulfilled. He opted towards getting a much larger backpack, as he would probably need it for holding all their equipment, food, and items. He bought some potions, antidotes, and repels - the items most likely to be useful on their voyage. Also, he decided to buy treats for the girls - candies specifically designed for Pokémon, as he felt they deserved something extra. A large, portable, dark green tent that was on clearance completed his transaction, and left him slightly broker than before the gym battle. Not that he was particularly worried - with these two, he felt confident that they would have enough prize money coming in to survive, and pokécenters offered free lodging for trainers, so it wasn't like they'd be paying for _everything_.

After they left the store, they went back to the gym, this time heading behind it. He did find humor in the girls' action, in sticking their heads outside the window to catch the wind. _Ever since Elise joined, they've been getting along so well with one another. They act like sisters, doing everything with one another. Hopefully any more newcomers will be the same way._ He parked the truck, the entrance to Dragon's Den in view, a new, stone bridge granting passage to the once isolated shore against the mountain. The fennekin and eevee darted out, allowing him to shut and lock up the vehicle. As he approached the entrance, the guard spoke up.

"Only specified people may enter," he said. "What is your name?"

"Michael Higgs. Clair told me to come here after we beat her."

"Oh, you're that kid that defeated Clair the other day. You have been granted entry," the guard responded. Eyeing the revolver, he continued. "There is no way you're old enough to have that."

"Graduated from Kalos," Michael replied. "Considered an adult on the grounds of being able to enter the work force." He could already foresee having to offer that explanation dozens of times in the future…

"…Alright… but you better behave with it in there - don't piss off the dragons."

"I won't," he promised. He wouldn't dream of instigating a fight with anything in there - a magnum was powerful, but so was a dragon. The guard stepped aside, and Michael could faintly see the outline of a compact pistol at his right side. _They're definitely prepared to defend the place if need be…_ Walking inside the cave, he and the girls took in the scenery. Stalagmites peaked through the water, forming a set of stony jaws with their ceiling-dwelling counterparts. The water seemed unnatural - almost living, as a mysterious current brought about movement. The walls were aligned with carvings and symbols, etched in with claws, as evident by the scratch marks surrounding. It had formerly been home to only members of the dratini line, but now housed a variety of species. A pair of garchomps, alongside two gibles, glared at him as he walked along, making the girls hide around his other side. _Definitely creepy as hell…_ He approached the dock, a small rowing boat tied to the end of the post. Another guard came from behind him, walking past towards the boat.

"Here to take the test?" he asked without looking.

"Yeah, that's the plan." He motioned for him to step into the boat. Michael did so, making the wooden vessel rock back and forth in the water. The guard stepped in, and soon they were floating towards the Dragon Shrine, curving around the side. For some reason, they were avoiding the front entrance of the building, opting to go around to the back instead.

"Why are we heading around back?" he asked, meeting the gaze of a dragonair in the water, though it quickly swam away.

"That half is reserved for another purpose," he simply stated. The boat pulled up to the dock of the Dragon Shrine, and he got off. Two guards, standing in front of the double wooden doors, stepped aside. Before he could make his way through the door, one of the two stopped him.

"I don't mean to be intrusive, but…" he motioned to the revolver.

"Ah, sorry," Michael apologized. It definitely wouldn't be appropriate to open carry into the ranks of the Dragon Master. "Would you like me to leave it here?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

"Not at all," he replied, removing the holster from his belt and handing him the weapon.

"Thank you for understanding. You may go in now." With the final clearance, he entered the building. The girls stayed quiet and close to his feet as he made his way to the Dragon Master. He wore a crimson robe, embroidered with silver and ivory designs, portraying basic shapes of dragon types.

"So," he began, "you're the trainer with the rising potential?"

"Seems like it," he admitted. "But a trainer is nothing without the pokémon - these two lovely ladies are the real reason we won," he said, motioning to the girls, who seemed to adopt a slight blush.

"A modest one," the master trailed off. "Humility is the quality of a great leader. Never lose that."

"Well, no need to take credit for something I didn't do."

"True. Now let's get started…"

 **. . . . .**

It had taken longer than he had hoped, being asked a series of questions that seemed to require a lecture each to answer. Finally, though, the last question was asked.

"Strong pokémon. Weak pokémon. Which is more important?" he asked.

"I… I don't think there's a correct answer to that…"

"What do you mean?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Well, I don't think there is such a thing as a weak pokémon. All pokémon have potential for strength, but if they are 'weak,' then that is a result of their trainer failing them, not providing the correct instruction and support. But at the end of the day, sometimes two pokémon aren't of the same caliber. One might have more experience, or might just be a more powerful species. That doesn't make it superior to its opponent, and it might not even grant it a victory." The Dragon Master turned away, silently walking towards a table in the back, covered with several balls.

"Your words are sincere. You have passed the test."

"I did?"

"Yes.

"…So what does that mean?" he asked, slightly confused.

"It means that you can be entrusted with a dragon," the Master replied.

"Wha- really?" He paused, before looking at the girls. "How do you two feel about having another companion?" The two looked at each other, then nodded. Even though his journey as a trainer had just begun, he was already building up quite the team. "Which species?"

"Because you have shown wisdom in your answers, I will leave that choice to you." He motioned to the vast amount of pokéballs. "Currently with me, I have several bagons, a gible, a couple of goomies, a trapinch, and of course, many dratinis." He thought the options over to himself, carefully considering his choice.

"I think I'd like the trapinch." A flygon, he reasoned, would be a great addition to the team in the sheer diversity of its moveset.

"Alright, but I only think that it would be fair to warn you about something… something regarding this particular trapinch."

"What is it?" Michael asked, curious as to what could be wrong with it.

"She had a previous trainer that abandoned her here. Said that she was too much trouble for what she was worth."

"She was abandoned?"

"Yes. I'm not sure what she may have done, but the former trainer was in a rush to leave her here. That was five years ago."

"That's sad to hear. I'll definitely take her then."

"I'm sure she will be most appreciative," the Master said, handing him the worn ball. He turned away, leaving the ceremonial room, once more in the open cave. The guard who had been holding his revolver handed it back to him.

As he left the cave, he decided to release their new teammate. The trapinch materialized before them, appearing somewhat dazed by her surroundings. Michael knelt down to her level, her ball in hand. She looked at him.

"Hey there, I'm your new trainer. I heard about what happened with your last trainer, and I can assure you that I won't ever abandon you like that. I'll do whatever I can to make you happy." She looked at him intensely, before taking a single step forth. He held his hand low, attempting to coax her into approaching more, so that he could pet her. She drew close, but instead of going to his hand, she simply nudged the central button of her ball, which encompassed her once more. _Alright… so far not the social type…_ Surely, this would be a difficult one.

 **. . . . .**

Veronica proved to be just that, but after a few months of traveling with them, she had warmed up to the team, and had been the first to evolve. That, coincidentally enough, was during their gym battle against Whitney and her infamous miltank. She had managed to win them the badge, and trusted fully in Michael's abilities as a trainer and in herself from that point onward. They stuck around in Goldenrod, feeling that they all deserved a break from their extensive traveling. That was what allowed for them to meet Layla - the riolu that he had met under much darker circumstances that the rest of his team.

The night after the gym battle they went straight to bed - they were exhausted. The following day they went out and celebrated their victory with a nice dinner. They were all quite the team, and with victories being practically guaranteed, money was no longer an issue at all. As he walked home that night, he opted to put them in their balls, as the walk to the hotel wasn't far. The distinct sound of yelling caught his attention as he traversed the nearly empty back-roads. Deciding to investigate, he traced the origin of the sound, which came from a nearby alleyway.

"Stupid bitch!" a voice sounded. _What the?_ A figure, sporting long, lightly torn khaki pants and a plain checkered shirt stood towards the end of the alley, in front of a dead end. He was clutching a slightly bent piece of rebar in his hand, the metal rod over a foot and a half in length. "After all I've done for you, , you still won't evolve?!" The sound of whimpering being the only response. He was hurting someone, and Michael wasn't going to stand by and let it happen. He began to make his way towards the man, mentally sizing him up. The man was much taller than him, but had a lankier build, looking to be in his mid-thirties. Before Michael could reach him, he brought the rebar down on its target, impacting his victim and making it cry out. He raised the metal rod as quickly as he had struck, readying for another. Michael caught his arm and heaved him back, away from the pokémon. A quick glance told him that it was a riolu, and had a clearly broken foot.

"Don't do that," Michael angrily said.

"Or what?" the man spat, regaining his footing. Michael thought quickly about the situation and how to put an end to it. He knew what he had to do, and prayed that he had the courage to do so. But what if he couldn't do it? Inaction at this point could very well get him or the riolu hurt or killed. Keeping that in mind, he upholstered the 686 at his side, pointing it at the man, who immediately stiffened up.

"Boy, you don't have the balls to pull that trigger," he stated.

"Don't bet on that," Michael warned. The man must have sensed the unease in his voice, and quickly stepped towards him. Though he was frightened, a thunderous sound echoed from the walls, permeating into the city night. Somehow, Michael didn't hear it. It was soon followed by a scream of pain. The man stopped in his tracks, grasping his wrist and shaking, and looked down to survey the damage. Michael kept his revolver loaded with hollow point ammunition - ideal for self defense in that it spread out rapidly in the body. That, combined with the sheer velocity of a .357 magnum round, produced quite the wound. He had hit the aggressor's right hand, near the ring finger - or where the ring finger had been. A gaping hole had taken the place of its knuckle, splintering bone outwards, and leaving the two adjacent fingers dangling by sinew and shredded muscle. Blood trailed steadily down.

"You little shit!" he yelled, trying to hide the pain in his voice, but to no avail. He rushed forth, trying to close the distance between them, which was but a few feet. Before he could reach Michael, another shot cut him off, and he fell on his side. He screamed out even louder and clutched his right knee. The yells sounded sickening to Michael, but he cared more about protecting both the riolu and himself than the man's suffering. This round had blown out his knee cap and the entire joint, which protruded out the crook of the back of his knee. Unable to withhold the tears of agony streaming down his face, he looked up at Michael, coming face-to-face with the barrel of the revolver. Michael had no trace of sympathy on his face.

"Still think I won't do it?" he asked the grunting man, who shook his head rapidly. He was more effective at hiding the terror in his own voice, but as things stood, Michael guessed that the man on the ground was far more scared than he was. "You're not as dumb as you look. Now hand over her ball," he ordered.

"W-what?" the man stammered.

"I said hand over her ball," Michael repeated. "Or did I stutter?" he said, pulling the hammer back.

"No! Please!" the man wailed. He fished an ultra ball out of his pocket and rolled it towards him. "T-take her, just please don't kill me." Michael picked up the ball and looked at it, then at the riolu, who was looking at the scene in fear. He returned his attention to the fallen aggressor, who was trying to crawl away.

"Don't move another inch."

"Wh-what? I gave you what you wanted!"

"Not fully," Michael said, keeping the gun pointed at him. "I'm sure someone called the cops after two gunshots went off. We're gonna wait for them to arrive, and have a nice chat with them about everything that happened here." After saying that, he turned to the riolu. "Listen, I'm going to put you in your ball for now. We'll sort everything out later, and get you medical attention as soon as possible." She nodded, still trembling, before he returned her.

Sure enough, the cops did arrive, aggressively commanding Michael to lower his weapon, and even going so far as to cuff him and confiscate the revolver. He understood why, though - it was just precautionary. After being fully cooperative with the cops, and proving that the gun was legally registered and his, they released him. He explained everything that happened, a story that they fully believed upon seeing the riolu and her hurt state, as well as matching the man up to past criminal records. She was immediately taken to the pokécenter for treatment, while he stayed back to finish his report. Of course, the officers were awestruck at the entirety of it - a sixteen year old had both apprehended and captured a criminal - one involved with several cases of domestic violence and a bad history with alcohol.

He couldn't sleep much that night. The girls tried to comfort him, portraying the message as best as they could that he did nothing wrong. It wasn't what he did, per se, but what he could have done that brought him unease. _It was so easy…almost instinctual, to pull that trigger…_ He had not been aiming the first time, firing it as soon as the man showed his intentions. The second time, though…he fully calculated it, targeting his knee so that he would no longer be a threat. It was so simple, so easy, and could end a life in just the blink of an eye. Such was the nature of a firearm. But the firearm wasn't the weapon - it was the tool. The one to pull the trigger was the weapon, and he had been able to do so without any hesitation. Would he have been able to pull the trigger a third time - at his head? After the first shot, the other was just too easy. He had no doubt in his mind that he could have followed through if need be. That was one of the things that made him nervous.

The other, of course, was the state of the riolu. Clearly he had to have been an abusive trainer - his record practically confirmed that, as well as the scene that he had just witnessed. _Is she going to be alright?_ He couldn't get her scared face - her pained expressions and whimpers - out of his head. He figured that he would check on her in the morning…or in five hours, since it was past four already.

 **. . . . .**

When he woke up, he abode by his mental promise to himself. After fixing a quick breakfast for the girls and himself, they rushed to the pokécenter. With a somewhat brisk pace, he approached the receptionist up front.

"May I help you?" she kindly asked.

"Yes - the cops dropped off a riolu last night. I wanted to check on how she's doing," he replied.

"Oh? So you're that boy that shot the abusive trainer last night?" she asked, looking to the gun at his side.

"Errr… yeah, that would be me," he admitted.

"We got the report earlier today," she said.

"Oh…"

"I guess we should thank you. He'll be behind bars for a long time, and you helped get two other pokémon out of a horrible situation."

"He had others?" he asked.

"Yeah, but not any more. When he gets out in like twenty years or whatever, he won't even be allowed so many feet away from this center. He will never own another pokémon, so his days of abuse are over."

"That's good to hear," Michael said. He hadn't thought about it like that, but his action _did_ keep him from continuing to hurt the riolu, so that only made sense. It actually felt kind of good - once he got over the fact that he had shot a man - to know that he had done something that had saved someone.

"She's in room four, right down that hallway," she said, pointing towards one of two hallways - the one at the right of the desk. "I think the nurse is still in there with her, so you might have to wait outside the door for a few."

"Alright, thanks a lot." He made his way over to the designated room, and sat in one of the chairs opposite to the door. Charlotte and Elise hopped into the seat beside him, while Veronica simply sat on the ground on his other side. Being close to four feet tall, she was level to him when he sat. Absentmindedly, he rubbed along her back, right above her wing joints. She released a purring sound, approving of his action, and shifted slightly to give him a better angle. Moments later, the door opened, the nurse emerging. He stood up.

"Are you here to visit?" she asked.

"Yes, I wanted to see how she was doing after what happened last night."

"Well, her foot was fractured," she said, pressing down against a crease in her dress. _I expected that much_ , he thought. "But that should only take a few weeks to heal. Other than that, she will be fine - thanks to you, that is. Go on in. I'm sure she'd be delighted to see you." And with that, she was off, likely to help with another patient. Slowly, he walked through, followed by his team. The riolu was laying down, propped up against a pillow that was a large as she was, foot wrapped within a hard cast.

"H-hey," he stuttered, pulling up a chair to the side of her bed. "Just wanted to see how you were holding up." She growled, her anger not directed at him, but at her immobility. She looked back at him, though, and gave a slight, timid smile. She spread her arms as widely as her small frame would allow. He stooped in, receiving her embrace and returning one of his own. She surprised him by planting a small kiss on his cheek. Pulling away, he decided to give her the proposal.

"I was wondering…" he began, somewhat quietly, "if you would like to join our team." She nodded, happy as though nothing had happened… as though her foot wasn't broken… He held out the ultra ball. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to give you a new one. That way, you won't have anything left over from your last trainer." She nodded, and, dropping the ball, smashed it on the floor. He then pulled out a luxury ball, to which she pressed the central button, capturing herself.

She adapted very well to the team, like she had been there all along. With her foot being injured, he carried her around on his shoulders, and he obviously wouldn't let her battle. Before even a month had passed, and right after her foot had healed, she evolved into a lucario.

 **. . . . .**

They had succeeded and, in the case of their Elite Four challenges, failed together. Those events had led him to where he was currently. The girls were his entire world, and he enjoyed every minute that he spent with them. Thinking back to those times always brought him great joy, and gave him peace that night in their Hoenn travels. However, he couldn't deny that he felt an ominous feeling, like something horrible was about to happen. _No… just my wondering imagination. Just a dumb feeling…_ He drifted off, giving way to his exhaustion. Strange, unpleasant sensations were ever present in his dreams. Unfortunately, sometimes those dumb feelings are right…

 **. . . . .**

He woke up, wiping the sleep out of his eyes and stretching out. Sitting up, he noticed that he was the third to awaken. With Layla, that was a common thing, as she habitually woke up earlier than the others to meditate. Charlotte was also awake, proceeding to roll up her sleeping bag. Elise was curled up into a ball, the slight rising and falling of her chest being the only evidence that she was even breathing. She always was a quite sleeper… Veronica, as usual, was dozing, her snoring not exactly subtle, but not loud enough to deny her teammates sleep… once they had gotten used to it, that is…

He took in his surroundings for a moment, simply enjoying them. The route had taken off in regards to vegetation, with thick brush inhabiting the once barren eastern half, and a forest (of which they were currently in) covering the western section. Thin streams of light poked through the treetops, placing miniature spotlights on everything below. The sun was shining brightly, but had not brought with it a sweltering heat, but rather was accompanied by a slight breeze, carrying the scent of pines to their noses. It was, without a doubt, the kind of day in which nothing could possibly go wrong.

He fixed them a quick breakfast, which woke Veronica up. Food always did the trick for her. They packed up camp and proceeded northward, It was no later than nine when that journey ceased to continue.

As they traveled along Route 111, nearing the intersection towards Routes 112 and 113, they couldn't help but notice the unease in their surroundings. The flying types were deep in chatter about something, and the bushes ruffling from the movement of wild pokémon throughout. Howls, chirps, and roars joined together to create a morbid cacophony, sending a chilling vibe through him. This time, he couldn't suppress his discomfort, and unconsciously gripped his revolver, not taking any chances. Finally, he noticed a lone sandshrew scurrying about, visibly distraught about something.

"Hey!" Michael called out, getting his attention. "What's going on? It sounds like a war out there." The sandshrew… had tears running down its face? He simply nodded, pointing straight into the woods.

"What's wrong?" he asked, anticipating whatever the answer to his question was, though it wasn't a positive anticipation. The sandshrew simply motioned for them to follow, albeit uncertainly. They followed him through the woods, the frightening sounds of dozens of species getting closer with each step. Their path led over heavily trampled grounds and cleared brush.

Gathered around were what seemed like hundreds of wild pokémon, all staring at the sight that they were about to witness, none paying them the least bit of attention.

It wasn't clear what had taken place there, but it was the most gruesome thing he had witnessed nonetheless. Michael had thought that Layla's ex-trainer had been one of the pinnacles of evilness - beating a small, defenseless riolu like that. He reasoned that, in order for someone to do such a thing, they had to have no conscience - simply put. But that seemed to hold nothing in comparison to the sheer cruelty that he saw before him now.

He dropped to his knees and lost his breakfast - the gruesome scenery, and especially the sheer _stench_ , proved too much for him. Nobody seemed to notice. How could anyone do anything even remotely like this?

Some innumerable amount of bodies littered the ground, not a single one stirring. The lifeless carcasses of both humans and pokémon were spread about, with most of the surrounding grass painted in dried blood. The ones that still had recognizable faces wore twisted expressions of terror, shock, and most of all, pain.

The first individuals that he had looked at was the group of machokes. Shackled together at the necks and wrists, all of them sported bullet holes through their torsos. They were among the few "lucky" ones to be killed in such a quick way. Michael would never fully forgive himself for continuing to look around.

A small family of eevees gazed lifelessly towards where their murderers had likely once stood, most having fallen victim to flames, and several with stab wounds. A nidoqueen, near a downed nidoking, remained chained to a tree, her abdominal cavity cleanly sliced open and spilling her entrails into a rotting pile. Various cuts and burns along her body pointed to torture, and her mate had been forced to watch, unable to do a thing about it with both of his knees shot out. Beside them was a ninetales laying in a wrangled mess, her once luxurious tales frayed and bloodied. She was adjacent a gardevoir, whose natural dress had been torn to shreds. The sick feeling in his stomach multiplied when he realized that these two, along with several others, showed the mutilations of rape. A female charizard - or what was left of one - lay before three charmanders. Her wings and body were riddled with bullets, and she also displayed the signs of sexual assault. Thick yet short brass cases littered the ground, claiming responsibility to the huge gaping holes in their bodies.

Off in the corner of the clearing was a low-laying pile of bodies. Despite him knowing the names of each and every species, they looked nothing of the sort. Not after what had been done to them. Parts of their bodies - those that could go for money on the black market - had been removed strategically. He knew their anatomies, but seeing it exposed in reality was something entirely different from a textbook. Every muscle was revealed on the milotic after they had stripped her hide off.

Several cages had been left by those in charge, faithfully doing their job in keeping their prisoners contained - though that wasn't difficult any more. The inhabitants had been starters, only recognizable by trace amounts of fur, claws, or the deformed body shapes. The floor was stained black from the fires that had been set within, potent enough to kill the water and fire types just as easily as the grass.

And yet, this wasn't just a casualty for large amounts of pokémon. Dozens of humans had been shot towards the back, connected together much like the machokes. All of them were visibly starved, wearing next to nothing, and several sported deep gashes on their backs. None of them looked like they had taken a bath in weeks, even with their decaying states underway. Most had been shot in the back of the heads, with barely any brain within. More thick, short cases - .50 AEs.

He didn't remember much after that, though he did know that he was the one to call the cops. He did, admittedly, break down - right in front of his team and all the wild pokémon. Nobody seemed to be judging, though, and he certainly wasn't alone in the matter. He definitely wasn't concerned about keeping a "manly" demeanor portrayed, feeling rather that anyone that could actually do so lacked a heart. They helped where they could, but stayed as far as possible away from the bodies. Not that it mattered, anyways - they had ingrained their images into his mind. And no matter what he did, he could never truly help the victims.

It became known as the Hoenn Massacre, and it was committed by ghosts. They were clearly traffickers, terrorists that had purged the regions of inhabitants. Most of the people had been wandering trainers - just like him - and most of the pokémon wild. Their targets were those more prone to going missing, so they had covered themselves well. Over three hundred fell victim to the slaughter. From what they could tell, the traffickers had been running low in supplies, having cut across the region from Mt. Chimney, and simply killed off the "cargo" that was not likely to survive the rest of the trip. They left, continuing towards the sea. Michael and girls lost the drive to continue their campaign, fleeing the region back to Johto before it could go into a state of emergency, which could very well call for a quarantine. He ran away from it all, but it would never leave him.

He became an insomniac, spending many nights just staring at the living room ceiling, wondering why he of all people had to stumble across such an atrocity. The bodies haunted his dreams and every waking hour. He couldn't begin to imagine what had gone through their heads in their last moments.

It was a horrible reality slap. Somehow, there really were people that were that much of monsters… Now, people across the regions would live in fear of what lurked shadows. And there was nothing that he could do about it…

A bizarre, small thought manifested itself in the corner of his mind, and he looked into it. Technically, there _was_ something he could do about it. But how would he hold up? He knew his way around guns, and had very good protective instincts, but could he cut it? Getting up, he slipped into his room, quietly, and took out his laptop, and slipped back out. He took a seat back on the couch, deciding to do some research to sate his curiosity. Scrolling through his results, he clicked on one link, figuring his possibilities. Just then, Elise walked into the room and hopped onto the couch beside him.

"You couldn't sleep either?" She shook her head, and laid down on her back, with her head in his lap. "Alright, fine." He conceded to her wish, set his laptop aside and rubbed her belly. She began nuzzling into his stomach affectionately. Bringing his hands higher, he tickled under her sides and neck, making her giggle and squirm to escape. Her noise level increased, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Seeing her laugh brought a slight smile to his face, despite the emptiness he now felt inside. Before he could continue, though, she shot up and tackled him onto his back. Pinning her trainer down, Elise settled on top of him and nuzzled into his neck. He reached around her, hugging the slightly heavy glaceon against him. He felt her tail rapidly wagging, making him feel the breeze on his legs. The glaceon darted up and gave his nose a swift lick. "Thank you. I needed that," he said, kissing her cheek. He thought back to the slaughter, thought about the hatred he would feel if anyone even tried to touch his girls, and knew that he would kill them without hesitation or remorse. He decided, at that point, that he would try to help put an end to whoever was doing this. _I'll tell them tomorrow,_ he thought. With her there, and with his mind made up, he was finally able to get some rest.

 **. . . . .**

He went over the thoughts in his head, waiting for the others to wake up. How exactly was he going to tell them? He took a cold shower to better focus himself, wondering if this was truly the right decision for all of them - after all, he wouldn't dream of leaving the girls behind. This choice would greatly affect them all, and there might not be any going back after he made this decision. Michael had given a great deal of thought to which division of the military he would be interested in joining. Johto had the best military in all of the regions - generally what one could expect from a strongly conservative society. The options included the army, the navy, and the air force, with several more specific groups under each category. He wasn't considering joining just any of them, though. Rather, he had taken an interest in Blackthorn's very own army special forces unit - officially called the Reconnaissance and Preemptive Engagement Regiment, abbreviated as the Reapers. Nobody really knew the things they did, as they always kept their business a secret. They apparently specialized in counter-terrorism, so he figured that if any force would grant him a shot at those responsible for the massacre, the Reapers would be it.

He went into his bedroom and, after thinking everything through, called for them. In a moment, each of them stood before him, eager to hear what he had to say.

"I wanted to talk to you girls about something," he began. "No doubt all those deaths had been weighing heavily on your minds." A short nod from each of them confirmed this. "It's horrible how there are people out there like that. Well, I've been thinking… that I'd like to make sure that those kinds of things don't happen anymore." Layla tilted her head in response, wondering at what he could possibly do about the situation. "Girls, I think I want to join the military." All of them went wide-eyed in shock. All of them tried to say something to him, though there was no way he could understand them.

"I know it will be a huge change from what we're used to… and I don't know if I'll even be able to cut it… but I want to try. I'm not going to do anything, though, that you all don't want to. I think its only fair to give you all a say in this, since it will be affecting all of us." For a moment, none of them made a sound, probably considering their next course of action. Finally, Charlotte stepped forth, placing a hand on his leg. She looked at him and nodded. One by one, they agreed to the proposition.

That week, he packed his bags, and, despite his parents' pleading not to, signed up to join the army. He never told them where he had really gone.

 **. . . . .**

That led him to where he was now, months later, trying to battle against his own body in a fight of perseverance. He had held up well until that point, learning combat skills, better marksmanship, and stealth techniques. He had excelled in all of these areas, but right now, _nobody_ was excelling. Now they were going through "Elimination Month" - which was named accordingly. In a final push towards filtering out the strong from the weak, the instructors had designed the most mentally and physically tormenting program possible, set to push them to their limits in the coldness of the mountains during winter. The altitude, the frigid air, and the sheer torment of the course served to dwindle the numbers in the group. One by one, he watched many of the people he had trained with for months drop out of the program. If they wanted to re-attempt, they would have to try again next year. Many of them already had some sort of military experience, and almost every single one was older than him. All but one - a friend who had moved to Johto not long after he had returned. Feeling much like Michael after hearing about the massacre in Hoenn, Alex had opted to join with him, as he and his family moved there due to the way Kalos was politically heading. _Although,_ Michael thought, _he probably isn't too happy with that decision now…_

"Get up!" the instructor shouted, before making his way towards his favorite individual to pick on - Samuel was his name. He had not uttered a word that was not mandatory, never showed any sign of weakness or pain. The instructor, Michael just knew, was frustrated that there was nothing he could do to even remotely get to him. He pointed to the latest individual to drop out of the program. "This quitter looks really warm inside that truck, doesn't he?" Just as he had said, the most recent to give up had been taken into one of the supervisor's vehicles, immediately being inspected for signs of hypothermia and injury while they were all suffering. _No… only physically comfortable…_ He wasn't even able to look up at them, ashamed that he had not been able to continue. "Who wants to join him?" The instructor did not yell, but the eerie calm in his tone was far more intimidating than screaming in their faces could have possible been. Nobody responded to his question. "Is that the case?" he snarled. "Well then, everyone on your backs - leg raises!"

Back to the cold ground. They laid on their backs, losing any warmth that they had worked up, and straightened their legs. They lifted their legs up the required height - six inches - and struggled to hold it. The instructor, to their dismay, didn't tell them to lower, so they had to hold the position. Pretty soon, he started quivering, his abs burning. His legs felt like massive weights, begging to be set down and rest, but he wouldn't oblige them.

"Down!" Grunting, they dropped their legs, savoring the few precious seconds of rest they had received. Of course, it only _was_ a few seconds… "Up!" Barely able to continue, Michael raised his legs once more. This… this was hell.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **That about sums up the first chapter. This was definitely a longer chapter, I know. The chapters are organized by the events that happen in the stories, not any set by word count. Some chapters will be long, some will be "short" (by short, I mean 4-5K words).**

 **Anyways, please leave suggestions and responses in the review section. I will gladly read over every one, and thank those of you that do leave a review for your time and thoughts.**

 **Now, one thing that I have been asked about. It probably seems odd that Sycamore was shocked with Michael's decision. That _will_ be important, but not now. Just be sure to remember it for later. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**

 **Here** **'s the second chapter. Sorry it took a few weeks - had to edit the previous, as well as formulate a great deal of detail in this one.**

 **Now for a few details I forgot to touch up on in the last chapter. I am** _ **attempting**_ **to create a more realistic story, even in the Pokémon universe. Sorry to say, but the Dex entries are anything but realistic - no mountain leveling/thrusting, infinite IQs, volcanic temperatures, ridiculous water pressures, future seeing, etc. will be in this writing. They aren't nearly as powerful as they are in the games, but are still noticeably stronger than humans. So that means moves like Earthquake, Solar Beam, Eruption, Explosion, etc. are also not as powerful.  
**

 **Now for the disclaimers. I don** **'t own Pokémon or any of it characters (some of whom will appear in this story). All I own is my OCs. I do not own any of the rights to particular companies in this writing, including Boeing, H &K, IWI, CZ, and Smith and Wesson, to name a few. **

**Hope you all enjoy reading.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

* * *

 **"To be prepared for war is one of the most effective means of preserving peace."**

 **-George Washington**

* * *

 **Ch. 2 - Locked and Loaded**

Against all odds, he and five others passed. Michael remained till the end of Elimination Month, earning the right to stay in the program. After the month was finished, and the instructors knew that these recruits would not cave in, they went through the final stages of training - getting them familiarized with their equipment, including their suit, which was a marvel in and of itself.

Primarily black, their suits weighed anywhere from 20-50 pounds, depending on the person's build. The fabric was made out of several intertwined layers of kevlar, reinforced with ariados silk, able to stop most low-pressure projectiles (though they would still sting like hell), and greatly reduce the penetration of higher velocity rounds. Most of the weight, though, came from the thicker armor-plating over the chest and back. With a layer of ceramic plating, as well as two layers, outer and inner, guarding their upper vital organs, most rifle rounds would not be able to penetrate, or would get caught an inch or two in at the worst. Perhaps the most impressive feature of their suits, though, were their masks. They were almost completely black, the only presence of any color being in the red visors and the pair of red streaks across the sides, which ran along their jaws and to the mouth-area of the mask, pointing down to create an almost fang-like appearance. They were solid kevlar on the outside, and covered the entirety of their faces, extending all the way to the back of their heads. The visors were equipped with a variety of features - able to switch between heat sensory and night vision. The sides had noise-cancelation devices, blocking out most of the intense sounds that could cause them hearing damage, or could interfere with their communications, which was done via radio and a throat mic. This effectively made it so that, on their discreet frequency, they could communicate with each other without making a sound - ideal for stealth. Lastly, the visors recorded first-person footage, so that film could be analyzed or used for future training.

They learned how to use a variety of firearms - SMGs, shotguns, rifles, and handguns of every sort, from concealable to bulky, suppressed to loud, scoped to iron sighted. They used one rifle an awful lot, though. "This here is your best friend - your scythe as a Reaper," their weapons instructor had informed them. "You will use hundreds of weapons over your time in the program, but none nearly as much as the Tavor." Over dozens of hours of range practice and scenarios of clearing out buildings and fields, they had naturally taken to the feel of the short bullpup carbine. It had the range of any AR-based platform, was shorter, and could be reloaded very quickly - without them even having to lower the weapon. It was a bit heavy in the back, which made it uncomfortable to carry around great distances, though it wouldn't really matter for their purposes - they were to get in, do their job, and get out just as quickly as they had come.

The final six were also trained to resist torture. In the off chance that any of them would be caught, they needed to ensure that they would not give information to the enemies. They were exposed to various forms - sleep deprivation, electrical shock, and beatings, to name a few.

Their combat skills were honed. Michael discovered in that time that he had an unrivaled aggression when he let loose, managing to overcome his new comrades in that regard. He almost naturally had the skills, the strategy - knowing how to exploit an enemies build, or their speed, or their impatience. He almost never found himself on the floor, looking up at a victorious opponent - and when he did, it was generally due to a careless mistake on his part. As a result of their training, he and the others lacked excess body fat.

Despite the hardships of the entire process, he always could enjoy returning to his quarters, where the girls were awaiting his return. Thankfully, the military allowed them to take any pokémon they had with them, which was the ultimate factor in his decision to proceed - he wouldn't dream of leaving them behind. They often did display their disapproval, though, when he returned bruised and beaten, but that, he explained, was simply inevitable.

There were definitely downsides to joining the Reapers, though. Every call, text, or email of his was monitored, and he could only travel so many miles away from his station. They were sure to convey to them that they could never discuss what they did - or were going to do - to others. They could mention that they were in the military, but it had to be left at that. This kind of secrecy could be difficult, not that he was prideful, but because he essentially had to keep his parents and friends in the dark about what he did for a living. Just as their titles suggested, they were to lurk in the shadows. And once one joined their ranks, they could not simply quit when they wanted. He was sure to be there for at least four years.

 **…..**

It was the day of their acceptance ceremony, and they proceeded towards an all-too-familiar area, traveling by foot on a worn path, wearing formal military attire. Their team was diverse; each were specialists in their own regard, but were "jacks-of-all trades" in others.

There was Kevin, who, at twenty-two, had the body of an athlete. A soccer and track star native to the Sinnoh region, he stood at 5'10 and weighed nothing more than 160 pounds. He could both outrun and outpace the others, and would prove to be hard for the enemies to hit. Of course, his anti-authoritative demeanor could get in the way, as well as his lack of a verbal filter, but these had not proved _too_ troublesome so far. Kevin had bright blonde hair, brown eyes, and light but ever-present freckles.

Thomas, on the other hand, seemed to be his polar opposite. Somehow, he had managed to keep up despite his build, standing at 6'7 and nearing 330 pounds. He had the "gentle giant" personality, but had gotten used to using his tremendous strength for more violent purposes, setting him on a great track towards becoming a heavy gunner. With a country accent and unparalleled strength, it was obvious that he was from the more rural areas of southern Johto. Twenty-two years old, he had fiery red hair, a full beard, and ice blue eyes.

Then there was Samuel, who seemed to give a very uneasy feeling to everyone around him. He almost never spoke, only doing so when absolutely required to, and never showed any sort of expression, but rather complete neutrality. He had become a not-so-secret frustration to the drill instructors, as they could not get him to cave in the slightest. They could mess with the heads of the others, but when it came to Samuel, _he_ was likely messing with _their_ heads. His marksmanship was laughably unrivaled, even going so far as to outperform the sniping instructors, many of whom had been behind the scope of a rifle before any of them were born. Samuel was only twenty, had jet-black hair, weighed 175 pounds, measured 5'8 and sported a lean but toned build.

John was the unrivaled stealth specialist, which was well suited by his body. Only being 5'6 and around 150 pounds, he had a much more concealable build. Completely able to mask his noise, he could sneak up on any of them, as shown through their "stealth tag" assignments during training. He had brown hair and brown eyes, and was twenty-four years old.

Alex had stuck with Michael the entire time, staying strong just as he had. While he wasn't the fastest, strongest, or best fighter out of the bunch, he was by far the best with machinery. With his engineering degree from one of Kalos's most rigorous universities, he understood almost all equipment - be it electronic or mechanical - by nature, and could utilize anything he found. Alex sported strawberry blonde hair, was 6'0 and 140 pounds, and was barely eighteen - the youngest to ever join the Reapers.

Of course, there was Michael, who sported a large, muscular build, but not even _close_ to Thomas's. Michael was the best at close combat, though he could never even hope to overpower the much larger Reaper. In terms of his marksmanship, he was fantastic with close-ranged weapons, and could provide a threat to anyone within five hundred meters. But he lacked Samuel's natural talent for accuracy at longer distances. Then again, no one seemed to have that level of skill... Michael was now eighteen, having spent close to a year in becoming operational. He weighed 215 pounds, measured 5'10, had brown hair and hazel green, somewhat golden, eyes.

The early signs of spring had made their presence known; the blooming of the cherry trees, which had become popular in the city, stood testament to that. Of course, the beauty and sweet scents of spring were also accompanied by dreadful amounts of pollen, trailing the ground and lake with murky yellow coloration. The stone bridge that they approached, though, was clean - likely having been washed that morning. A guard stood in front of the entrance - the same one from a year ago, Michael realized. He nodded at them and stood aside, granting them entrance. Before they walked through, the guard quietly said something to Michael, holding him back momentarily.

"You've come quite a ways from being a trainer, haven't you?"

"You remember me?" Michael asked, surprised by the revelation.

"Of course, it's not every day that Clair loses a battle, especially to a teenager carrying a handgun."

"Yeah," he laughed, "I guess that would be pretty memorable."

"Not gonna lie, it was quite the surprise," the guard replied. "Anyways, you better hurry along. Congratulations."

"Thanks," Michael said as he walked in, catching up to his group. They continued into the depths of Dragon's Den, a raft awaiting them at the edge of the short dock. They stepped onto it, making it rock in the moving water. Once they were all stabilized, several dragonairs emerged from the waters behind them, pushing the raft towards the Shrine. Michael couldn't help but notice the various dragons staring at them, not as invaders, but out of respect. Among those were a familiar pair of garchomps, along with two gabites beside them. The raft slowly but surely reached the isolated Shrine, but this time, took a different path than Michael had last taken. This time, they headed to the front side of the building.

They stepped off at the shore of the small island, onto a wide, concrete path, leading up to the stairs of the building. The red paint was slightly fading away, peeling off, giving the building a rustic appearance. The doors were ornate, clad in scale-shaped golden engravings, protruding outwards to look like their real-life counterparts. Two guards, one on each side of the double doors, grabbed the knobs, twisted, and opened. The ceremony had begun upon their entry, and the small audience stood in respect. This time, as Michael walked up to the stage with his new comrades, he recognized the difference between this ceremony and his graduation ceremony. When he received his diploma, the audience had consisted of his friends, teachers, and family. This time, it was composed of generals and captains that he never knew. Well, them, and the girls. The military, surprisingly, had let the Reapers bring any pokémon they had to the ceremony, as they _would_ be accompanying them the entire time. Charlotte, Veronica, Elise, and Layla stood to the side of the aisle, watching his every move, much like everyone else in the room. They made their way on stage, standing side by side, facing the audience. The spokesman - the Head of the Reaper division, stepped forth, beginning the short ceremonial speech.

"Standing before us today are, undoubtedly, the bravest men in Johto's military. They have given everything - even their freedom, to fight for their region and their people. They have withstood the most brutal trials, maintained their sanity in the most trying of circumstances, and, most of all, have shown us their perseverance and determination, even when we attempted to destroy their spirits. When all the others caved in to the pressure, gave up from the hardships, these men held strong. They have proven their capabilities time and time again, and so we are honored to have them join our ranks." Two others began making their way on stage - two of their main instructors during their training, one carrying a slim, wooden case. He opened it up, revealing the six coveted Reaper badges, laying on top of a velvet fabric.

"So, that being said, I present to you the members of the Twenty-Fifth Reaper Squad." The man holding the case stepped forth, in front of John.

"From the Johto region, Thomas McCoy." Thomas stepped forth, and the empty-handed instructor took one of the badges out. Though he knew what to expect, Michael couldn't help but anticipate what was coming next. The badge had two pins on the back of it, but they had no locking mechanisms attached. No, they would get those later, but not for the first time. The instructor positioned it on Thomas, which required him to reach up a bit, at the upper left corner of his chest. Flattening his hand, he then slammed his other fist over it - effectively pushing the two pins about a quarter of an inch into his muscle. He didn't budge. The instructor saluted him, and Thomas returned suit.

"From the Johto region, Samuel Reddens." The instructor embedded the badge into him, though Samuel didn't even show a grimace. They saluted; the instructor moved along.

"From the Sinnoh region, Kevin Werber." Just like before, the badge was stuck shallowly into his chest, and they saluted one another.

"From the Johto region, John Bowich." He couldn't help but notice Alex shoot him a slightly nervous glare, knowing he was next in line. The light _thud_ and salute signaled that they were finished.

"From the Kalos region, Alexander Morgan." He stood straight, as though he wasn't uneasy at all, and received the badge. After his salute, the instructors finally made their way to Michael.

"From the Johto region, Michael Higgs." He looked at the badge, taking in its features as the instructor retrieved it. The most prominent feature was the double edged dagger facing down, a slim red on each edge, while the main body of the blade was black. Intertwined around the dagger was a lone dragonair, wrapped around twice, its head above the handle and pointed down, though looking straight. The instructor positioned it on Michael and slammed his other hand, implanting it. _That…hurt…_ But just as he had been trained to, he refused to show any pain. He gave the final salute. "Everyone, please give a round of applause to our Twenty-Fifth Reaper squad." The audience immediately did so, everyone standing in respect. Because the crowd only consisted of under a hundred people, the applause wasn't too loud. However, many of these men were of respectable positions, some being previous Reapers themselves. None of their approvals mattered to him nearly as much as the girls, who were beaming at his accomplishment, all but glaceon clapping, as it was kind of difficult to clap when you're a quadruped.

The ceremony was disbanded shortly after, and they were on their way back outside. After shaking a great deal of hands, they were finally free. Of course, that was also when he was swarmed by the girls, with a certain flygon's gripping hug forcing the air out of his lungs. Both Layla and Charlotte were at his sides, looking up at him with beaming expressions, eliciting a short laugh from him. Not wanting Elise to feel left out, he crouched down and rubbed under her chin, receiving a nuzzle in return. He noticed Alex approaching in his peripheral, alongside his two pokémon - his shiny greninja, and a luxray.

"Well, I can't really believe it, but it looks like we made it."

"Looks like it," Michael replied. He was surprised, upon meeting back up with Alex a year ago, to find that he had captured a luxio, which had evolved midway through their training. Her name was Lillian, but the greninja was simply called Greninja. "Thanks for sticking with me the whole time."

"No way I was letting you get the better of me this time," Alex joked. "But you're welcome."

Afterwards, they separated, and made their final preparations for departure the following morning.

 **…..**

Michael signaled a cab and returned the girls for the ride. With four of them, one who couldn't even fit in the vehicle, it simply wasn't possible. He took a last look at the scenery as it passed by, uncertain of when he would see it again, as they drew closer to the airport. His parents weren't there to see him off, as he was not able to tell them what he truly was, nor the fact that he would be traveling twenty miles north, to the army's northern operation base, rather than one of the various forts across the region. No one was to know where they were, when they'd been there, or what they had seen. Secrecy was going to be a constant companion…

"Hey, we're here," the driver said, snapping Michael back to attention. He fished out his wallet, and paid the fee and tip.

"Thanks," he said, getting out. The airport was positioned diagonally, facing the southwest primarily - sensible, since Blackthorn rested at the top-right corner of the region, and northeast of nearly every major city. He grabbed his two bags, and released the girls as the cab left. Upon getting out, Veronica took one of the two, as she usually did. They headed towards the main building, but were stopped.

"Wrong way, son." Michael turned to see a slightly graying man, arms crossed, looking to be around his mid to late forties, dressed in khaki pants and a short-sleeved, dark green t-shirt. He had light brown hair, dark brown eyes, and stood a full head taller than him. He had a long knife of some sort at his side.

"What? What do you mean?" Michael asked.

"Everyone's meeting around the side. Follow me." He decided to follow him, wondering what was going on, but not complaining - after all, this _would_ keep him from having to package and admit his revolver to the airport, and wait while it got shipped to his destination, which could take who knows how long. They soon faced an opened gate to the right of the building, leading to an occupied helipad. A large Chinook stood there, both of its propellers - one on the front, one on the back - rapidly spinning, kicking up dust from the ground. The hatch at the back was open, and he could see Thomas and Alex were already there. The man who had led him there turned around, likely to collect the others in the same manner. Sure enough, they were all there within a few more minutes, seated on the large transport helicopter, the man who had led them there as well. The Chinook took off, and began making its way north towards the Johto army's HQ.

"Mind telling us who the hell you are?" Kevin blurted out. Michael rolled his eyes at his comrades crudeness, but _was_ kind of curious about the newcomer.

"My name is Wesley Hawkins," he replied, "and I'm your commanding officer." _Way to go, Kevin,_ Michael thought. Kevin nervously glanced aside, muttering "shit" under his breath. "Any more comments, Werber?" Wesley asked.

"No," he replied.

"Good, now shut your mouth and listen. We are heading to HQ for a week before we are stationed out to Kanto."

"Wait a second," Alex spoke up. "You mean to tell me we are being deployed only a week after becoming operational?"

"Yep. I know you boys would usually have more time to get adjusted, but time is not a luxury we have at the moment."

"What's going on?" Michael asked. "There's got to be some serious shit happening if we're rushing in there this fast. And for that matter - why are we going into _Kanto_ of all places?

"Something… has gone horribly wrong," Wesley admitted. "I'll fill you in on the details as we fly there. For now, you all have the week off - get a little bit of rest and relaxation. No violence. No doubt you'll get plenty of that once we set foot in Kanto." He got up and walked to the front compartment of the aircraft, leaving them for a moment, but returned carrying a long case. He sat down and opened it, revealing several sheathed daggers, about two feet in length. "These are your combat knives. More of a short sword if you ask me." He distributed them among the six. Michael took his, unsheathed it, and looked over its features. The handle was black and had a nylon grip, a crimson pommel protruding out the end of it. The blade was double-edged, which was questionable for a modern-age combat knife. The entire body of the knife was black, and it was reddened along the blade, making it perfectly resemble that of the knife on their badges. The end was drawn into a very sharp, pointed angle, forming a small tip at the very pinnacle. Again, questionable for a combat knife. Above the handle, at the very bottom of the blade's body, was the Reaper emblem.

"What do you think?" Wesley asked.

"It's a little bit… odd for a combat knife," Michael replied. "I mean, it looks like it could really do a number on someone, but being two-sided and with that small of a point… well, even though it could really slice someone up, it could break easily if hit the wrong way." Wesley grinned at his confusion.

"You don't have the strength in your body to snap that blade." He unsheathed the one at his side, holding it up to display it to them. It looked exactly the same as his. "Think fast!" Before anyone knew what had happened, Wesley brought it down quickly towards Kevin, who instinctively raised the one he had just received up in defense, blocking Wesley's. The two blades contacted, and Michael just _knew_ that they had been chipped harshly, as a loud, ringing sound permeated the air. Wesley withdrew, while Kevin looked like he was about to have a heart attack. "That's for your disrespect. Anyways, look at your blade now." They all looked, and to their astonishment, neither dagger even had a scratch. _And he hit hard_ , Michael thought.

"How is that possible?" John asked. "What the hell are those things _made_ of?"

"Compressed steelix skin," he replied. "Take a whole bunch of it and use psychic types to press it down; they compress so much steel into those daggers, I doubt you'll manage to even scratch the things. Not to mention the skin itself is incredibly hard to begin with. The process is very difficult, time consuming, and expensive, though, so don't lose them." They were looking at him, clearly surprised, before he continued, putting them at ease. "Don't worry - we have dozens of steelixes that we work with. They naturally shed every once in awhile, so we didn't buy anything off the black market." That seemed to put their darker assumptions to rest. _Well dang…_ Michael gently felt the edge of his dagger, finding it to be razor sharp. _This thing could cut right through someone._ Now that he understood the invincibility of the weapon, it _was_ pretty practical - the length alone allowed for the leverage needed to provide a variety of tasks, and would grant a range advantage in a close-quarters combat scenario.

"Had mine for twenty-five years, still good as new," Wesley continued. _Wait a second…_

"You were a member of the first Reaper squad?" Michael asked.

"Yep. Four others and I were the first of our kind. I've stayed in the program the longest, though, as commander to individual units. My last one - the guys before you - disbanded; they each went off on their own way after seven years. That's about what you guys can expect." Wesley shot Kevin a stern glare, making him cower back slightly. "So I'd say that we'll all be _great_ friends by the time this shit's said and done."

Michael thoughtlessly tapped the balls at his side, knowing that the girls disliked being inside of them, and that Veronica would probably be angry. _Oh well, not like I can do anything about it._ He then brushed against something else. "Commander, what should I do about this?" he asked, motioning to his revolver. "Pretty sure most weapons are supposed to be kept in the armory."

"Generally speaking, yes," Wesley replied. "But I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. You can hold onto it, but if you shoot a damn magnum inside the base…"

"Don't worry, I won't," Michael said.

 **…..**

The entire ride took nothing more than half an hour - the greatest obstacle being, of course, the tall mountains in which the base hid. They had decided to construct it _inside_ of one of the mountains, and building additional floors down instead of up. It would be incredibly hard to invade, being that there was only a single main entrance, also making it difficult to bomb. The Chinook landed at a large, barren plateau east of the main bases, filled with various other helicopters, some getting ready to depart. A bit further to the north, and there was a large building, leading out to a half-mile long runway. Though the slightly open doors, Michael could catch a glimpse of fighter jets.

They stepped off of the helicopter and followed Wesley towards the main entrance of the army base. They would be sharing their bases with them, as they _were_ a division of Johto's army, though they would only interact briefly with any people outside of the Reaper program. Seeing the left corner of the main doors, Michael finally caught a glimpse of how big it really was, nearing forty feet in height, and easily wide enough to grant two adjacent tanks passage. Upon fully rounding the corner, however, he caught another surprise. A rather large steelix, just like Wesley had mentioned, was coiled up, attentively eyeing them, and shifting its gaze towards Wesley in recognition. It raised its tail, and brought it back down a bit harder, creating a slight _thud_. A few seconds later, the two heavy, metallic halves parted to each side. As the large entrance would suggest, the base was _huge_. Several docking sites aligned the left and right of the interior. A few trucks were backed up against the loading platforms, allowing the men to transport their contents away via dollies. One of them, Michael noticed, contained several crates of 5.56x45mm alone. At the opposite end of the room lay several large elevators, one of which they headed towards. Wesley motioned for an individual to join them, a man looking to be near thirty, before getting on the elevator.

"The second through seventh basement floors are designated for training, preparations, and for drills. Y'all won't really need to be there. Instead, you will each be remaining in the eighth, ninth, and tenth basements. Eighth and ninth are the housing floors, tenth is the entertainment floor."

"Entertainment?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, when you have thousands living on base with no way to get back to town at will, you kinda have to have _some_ form of entertainment. We've got a theater, a pool, a bowling alley, gym, personal range, a spa for our female members, a small store outlet, battle arena, and the cafeteria."

"Alright, do you know which floor we'll be on?" Michael asked.

"You boys are set on the ninth floor." As if on cue, the elevator stopped, opening up and revealing the said floor. "This is your stop," Wesley said. "Could you lead them to their quarters?" he asked the man.

"Sure thing," he replied. "Which division?"

"Reaper." The man looked at them, somewhat shocked.

"No problem. If you guys will follow me." They stepped off, and the elevator began to close, but Wesley grabbed the door, holding it back momentarily. "If you need anything, feel free to ask me or anyone else. Other than that, be ready to leave this upcoming Tuesday. Enjoy your week off." And with that, he let the doors close, and he was off.

"If you all will follow me," the man said, turning around. They did so, coming across a large intersection. As they neared it, they heard a casual conversation from around the corner.

"Yeah, but they had us doing all these laps and shit 'cause of that one asshole - Phillip. Did I tell you about Phillip?"

"Only about a hundred times already," came the reply.

"Yeah, well he screwed up the drill. Of course, the whole _team_ gets to pay for it." They rounded the corner and caught the six by surprise. One of the two voices belonged to a soldier not much older than them. The other belonged to a mighteyena.

"Did that mighteyena just talk?" Kevin asked without hesitation to the duo.

"Nah man, you're just hearing things," the mighteyena jokingly replied, the two leaving them standing there, dumbfounded.

"What in the-"

"It's a recent development," their "escort" stated. "The VFT - Vocal Frequency Translator. It's only available for military personnel, or at least for right now."

"How the hell does that work?" Michael asked as they continued down towards their hallway.

"They communicate with frequencies rather than words," the man replied. "The device reads the frequencies and translates them."

"Does it work for all pokémon?" asked Alex.

"All but a few. Once they discovered the basic platform they were using, cracking the rest was pretty easy. Of course, it took millions to get to that point…" he trailed off. Suddenly an idea popped in Michael's head.

"Do you think we could get a few?"

"Well, they're part of the inventory, and you know how picky the military is about that kind of shit - they'd rather let it sit in a storage room and rot before they sell or give it to someone." He appeared deep in thought for a moment, before continuing. "Tell ya what, I'll speak with Commander Hawkins about it - see if we can make a few disappear off the books. How many would you be looking at?"

"Thanks, I really appreciate it," Michael stated. "Could you see about nabbing me four?"

"Sure, I'll try," he replied. "Anyone else?"

"I'll take two," Alex said.

"Same here," Thomas replied. He also had two pokémon - his starter, a peppy chikorita by the name of Ivy, and a golurk appropriately named Titan. The others had no pokémon, so a translator likely wouldn't do them any good. They turned at the end and to the left, dead ending at a smaller hallway - only rooms on each side. "In the meantime, here you are. Take your pick, but they're all the same." Michael headed to the first one on his left, and Alex took the one beside him. Thomas took the one across the hall from Michael, John adjacent to him, and Kevin beside Alex. Samuel, on the other hand, took the room on the right and at the very end, furthest away from everyone. _That guy's weird as hell…_

He opened the door to his quarters, and was decently surprised at what he saw. The entrance led into the dining room, which contained a decently-sized table, large enough to seat eight. Behind it was a large closet, containing both a washer and dryer, as well as several extra linens on the shelves above. A smooth concrete counter-top with a black gloss separated the adjacent kitchen from the dining room, forming an L-shape. The kitchen contained a sink, microwave, refrigerator, and stove - all stainless steel, and mahogany cabinets over the longer portion of the counter. The stove and refrigerator were on the opposite side of the room from the sink and microwave. Moving on, he saw the living room next. A thick, black couch, a matching ottoman in front of it, stood in front of a short, mahogany table, which was in the center of the room. Opposite to it was a 50" plasma screen TV, also on top of a mahogany table, though this one was taller than the last. A small coffee table lay beside the couch and a leather recliner, which sat diagonally from the television. He continued on through the hallway, which sat between the dining room and living room, and saw three doors - one on his right, two on his left. The one on the right contained a guest bedroom, complete with a closet, queen sized mattress, and a single dresser, which also served as a nightstand. Straight across from it was a small bathroom, adjacent to the final door. As he had suspected, it was the master bedroom. With a king sized mattress, it could easily suit Veronica, even if she sprawled out. Another closet and dresser, but this room also had a desk, which housed a lone router at the corner, its flickering green lights displaying its activity. A larger bathroom lay to the left, containing a large white countertop with two sinks, an adjacent toilet, and a shower and bathtub across. Carpet was the dominant flooring throughout, being present in every room but the kitchen and bathrooms. _This… this has just got to be overdoing it,_ he thought to himself. Although, with the five of them, and, thinking back to the lack of room in their tent during their training days, he definitely wasn't complaining. He tossed his bag on the bed, opting to unpack later.

 _Shit_ , he thought, _I almost forgot!_ He hurriedly pulled out their four luxury balls and released them.

"Sorry it took awhile - I know how much y'all hate staying in those things." Veronica was the most visibly upset, glaring at him in anger. "Look, I wasn't sure if it would be acceptable to take you four out in the plane, or on the way here. I don't know what else I can say - I'm sorry." Michael stepped forth and hugged her, which she returned, her anger melting away. "Alright, it's… 12:00, and there's surprisingly a lot to do here. What should we start with?"

 **…..**

He regretted asking them that. They had wanted to watch a movie - which was fine with him. It was the _choice_ of movie that they had chosen to watch. The theater contained four screens, each playing something non-stop. One was playing a comedy, two had action movies, but the last one… The last one was dedicated to the women who stayed on base, and was showing a sappy romance. And guess which one the girls picked? Layla wanted to see an action movie, but the other three had chosen. And to make matters worse, since there was only one screen for women (as the number of men in the base was far higher), it was pretty packed. Luckily, they had found a section up towards the front were they could sit, a couch in the center for Veronica. Unluckily, them sitting near the front also displayed to practically the entire crowd that there was a man in there. Hopefully they wouldn't be able to remember his face… They sat, and moments later, the film began. _Great… a full two hours of this shit…_

Rolling credits had never been such a beautiful sight to him. The plot was corny, just overly painful, and made him want to beat his head against a wall. But the girls - even Layla - seemed to enjoy it, so he kept his mouth shut. Of course, that didn't stop him from making his way out of the theater as quickly as he could when it was finished…

They wandered about for the rest of the day, familiarizing themselves with the base's attractions, stopping by the cafeteria for lunch. The pool was large, spanning about 35 meters long, and about half as wide. Rectangular, it wasn't anything too special, but it was easily big enough for all of them to swim in comfort.

Next was the range, which was the next room over, though it was about a hundred feet away. It was much longer than the pool room. The left side, extending much further than the right in perspective to the entrance, was a long, gray corridor, the target hangers trailing back as far as the wall. Several dividers separated individual "units," which totaled about twenty, most of which were currently occupied.

Perhaps the most impressive facility was the gym, which had multiple all-purpose weight racks towards the right, able to do pull-ups, squats, benches, and exercises of the sort. Dozens of ellipticals of every kind lined the left, from stair-climbers to treadmills. Dumbbells sat racked towards the end of the room, behind the weight machines. What really caught their eyes, though, were the pair of fighting rings in the center, one of which was occupied by two soldiers, which, by the looks of it, were practicing their CQC skills.

He walked right past the spa, which was ironically the next door over from the gym. "Sorry girls, I am _not_ going in there."

The battle arena was relatively plain looking, but large, much like the pool room. Half a dozen "courts" were set side by side, the traditional pokéball insignia in the center.

There was also the shopping outlet. Some more simple articles of clothing were spread out, along with razors, hygiene supplies, playing cards, cigarettes (which Michael detested), and several boxed and canned non-perishable food items. _We'll need to stop by here, unless we want to eat at the cafeteria three times a day._

By the time they had returned to their quarters, there were, sure enough, four small boxes in front of his door, as well as two in front of Thomas's. There were none near Alex's, so he must have taken them inside. They shot him a questioning look, but he simply picked the boxes up and opened the door, taking them inside. He began to rip the tape off, opening the first one, all while the girls were unable to look away. Inside was a dull gray colored collar of adjustable length, nearly a quarter of an inch thick. He opened the others quickly.

"Go on, try 'em on girls." He knelt down so that he could help Elise put on hers. He fastened the back of it around her neck, putting it on tight enough to where it wouldn't move around, but not nearly tight enough to bring her discomfort. By this time, the others had pretty well gotten theirs on.

"They're a little… bland…" He looked over, and deduced that the voice came from Charlotte. It was gentle, yet sassy in tone. The device projected the translation louder than her natural sounds, blotting them out, but not completely.

"More like downright ugly," Veronica stated, looking at her teammates. "I mean, really? Gray? With my green? Our trainer…. sheesh, he's smart, but he has _no_ sense of fashion." Her voice was deeper, but still noticeably feminine — filled with power, authority, and a hint of dragon pride.

"I appreciate the complement, Ver," he replied, "but these things aren't for looks." She snapped to the side, looking at him like a deer in the headlights. The others appeared similarly as confused, wondering what in the world just happened.

"Did you just…" Veronica stuttered.

"Yeah - those are translators. Pretty cool, aren't they?" Though she was technically the slowest on the team, Elise tackled him faster than he could respond.

"This… this is great!" she yipped. She sounded pretty high pitched, but wasn't shrieking. Perfectly suited her timid demeanor. "I've always dreamed about the day when we could truly speak to each other!"

"Likewise," Layla said. Her voice was calm and collected - very smooth. She surprised everyone by embracing him from behind, her head over his shoulder and next to his. "We have so much to talk about!"

And they sure did. Previously, he had to rely on body language to communicate with them, making an educated guess as to what they were trying to tell him. A notepad had seemed like a good idea once, as they knew how to read, but writing… writing is much harder without opposable thumbs. They could write _somewhat_ , but it was generally much more trouble than it was worth — it took to long and was very inefficient, usually taking up a page in the notepad to only get out a few words. That, and Veronica always ripped the pages…

But now - now they had the ability to commute flawlessly and efficiently, and they made great usage of that for hours upon hours. Michael knew his girls well, but with this kind of accessibility, he found himself learning more about them than he ever expected. Favorite memories of their journeys, likes and dislikes — many things that he would _not_ have been able to guess. They were alarmed, though, when Charlotte pointed out that it was past two in the morning.

"I'm sorry…" Elise said, looking down. "We've kept you up too long - you have work in the morning." The others looked shocked upon hearing this, then also apologized.

"I meant to tell you all about that," Michael replied. "I've got the week off, so we're free to have some fun for awhile."

"Really?" asked Veronica.

"Yeah - after that, we're heading out to Kanto."

"Oh," she said, slight upset in her voice.

"But we've got time for now; that's all that matters, so let's make the best of it."

"Agreed," Layla chimed in. "So what do you have in mind?"

"Well," he began, "I was thinking - tomorrow we could spend all day with each other, and for the next four days, we could have some one-on-one time - whatever each of you want. The last day we could spend all together again - you know, before we leave."

"Just to clarify - you did say _whatever_ we want, right?" asked Charlotte.

"Yeah, whatever you want." _What is that fox planning?_

"Okay, I'll hold ya to that," she giggled.

"I like the idea very much," Layla spoke up. "Think we could visit the gym? I liked the looks of those rings."

"Sure, as long as you watch your spikes," he joked.

"Of course - I'd never hurt you."

"I wouldn't mind going for a ride," Veronica offered.

"Wait, what?"

"A ride."

"Oh hell no, I am _not_ going flying. I'm not particularly fond of heights."

"You've ridden in helicopters and planes…"

"Yeah, but that's different," he stated, matter-of-factly. "In those cases, you've got solid steel beneath your feet, and you can't see below you. But flying? All that'd be below me would be you, and I'd see _and_ feel everything. No, screw that."

"C'mon - most dragon trainers go riding on a regular basis - you haven't even tried it once. And besides, you did say _anything_ …" _Dammit…_

"Alright," he relented. "You will be the death of me yet…"

"Don't worry," she said, giving him a constricting hug. "I won't drop you… as long as you're cooperative…" _Oh, okay then…_

"What about you, Elise? What do you think?" Michael asked.

"Mmm, I like it. I'll think of something we could do."

"Then it's settled. Even though I don't have anything to do tomorrow, I still think we should call it a night."

"Mhm," Layla said, yawning. "I am kinda tired."

"I was thinking that Veronica and Elise could share the master bed - on account of your size, Ver - and that Charlotte and Layla could share the guest bed."

"But… where will you sleep?" asked Charlotte.

"I'll probably crash here on the couch. There are some extra sheets over the dryer, and-."

"Not hardly," she growled. "You are _not_ sleeping on a damn couch while we take the beds."

"Sorry Char," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm not giving you a say in the matter." If there was anything that Michael inherited from his father, it was definitely his stubbornness. The girls knew that if he had made up his mind about something, he was set, and there was no point in trying to convince him otherwise.

 **…..**

That week was amongst the best he could remember - no major concerns, but rather a full seven days of fun with his team. Of course, that led to him finding out what Charlotte had planned for her day - a full day at the spa. "You did say anything," she had told him. Fortunately, he didn't partake in most of the "activities," but she did make him go into the sauna. He only hoped she would never speak of it…

"Thank you for putting up with that," she said as they rode the elevator back. "I know how uncomfortable that must have made you."

"Eh, it could have been worse," he said, rubbing the white tuft of hair around her shoulders. "I'm just glad that you enjoyed yourself."

"Aww, thanks." He picked her up from under the arms and hugged her.

"Anytime," he said, kissing her on the top of the head. The doors opened, revealing Samuel standing before them. He simply turned and walked away, leaving them confused at his weird mannerisms. _What the hell?_

Elise wanted to try out bowling - she was always one for games. She likely didn't know how the game was played, though, when she asked to go, as she was dismayed to find out that the game was definitely designed for bipedals. "Maybe you could run up to it and shove it," he joked. Much to his surprise, she agreed to trying it… and proceeded in beating him. Wasn't even close. Alex had witnessed it, and taunted him for losing to a pokémon that didn't even have hands. He found it funny, of course, until he lost to her too.

"That's total bullshit," Alex said. "Just bullshit. Complete luck."

"Nah, I think you're just being a sore loser," Michael laughed.

"Well that's easy for _you_ to say - you totally suck at bowling" Alex countered.

"Maybe," Michael admitted, "but the fact still stands that you lost. I think you just don't like the fact that she is better than you. If it pisses you off so badly, why don't you just play her again?"

"With pleasure," he replied. Alex got closer to Elise's score this time, but he found himself losing once more.

"It's alright buddy," Michael said, slapping him on the back. "I'm sure you'll get better with practice."

"Whatever," he said. "I don't have time for this shit." He turned around and left the two to themselves.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked genuinely. "I mean, he seemed pretty mad."

"No Elise, not at all. He'll be fine - he just gets a bit stressed whenever things don't go his way. He'll probably sulk about it for an hour or two, then he'll forget all about it."

"Okay," she said. "So, how did I do?"

"Amazing," he laughed, "and I never would've thought."

"Really?" she asked with a beaming expression.

"Of course - it takes some skill to overcome a biological boundary. Such an overachiever." She nuzzled up against his side in appreciation, to which he draped his arm over hers. "And always so sweet."

On Layla's day, they went to the gym. In there, he noticed Thomas benching a bar that had formed a slight arch, being spotted by Titan. After two slow but steady reps, Thomas racked the bar. He sat up, and Ivy trotted up to him with a towel on her back, which he took and wiped himself off.

"How much is that?"

"Four-ninety - maxin' out."

"Shit man, that's almost _twice_ mine."

"Really? What's your max?"

"Two-seventy. I need to work to get it up - I'd like to hit three."

"But not today, though," Layla added. "We've got something else in mind for today, right Michael?"

"Right."

"And what would that be?" Thomas asked.

"We're sparring," she replied.

"Ha, now _this_ I'd like to see. It'd be nice to see you get your ass kicked, Michael."

"Yeah, right," Michael said. "I almost never lose."

"Do I sense a bit of cockiness?" Layla teased. "I'd be careful with that if I were you."

"No, it's just that I _am_ the best at close-quarters combat in our squad. I mean, with my strength and size advantage over you, I just don't really see you beating me."

"Alright, we'll see about that," she said, heading over to one of the two unoccupied mats. "C'mon." He followed her to it, and soon they were both across from one another in the ring.

"What are the rules?" he asked.

"Hmm… well, no face or groin shots…"

"Yeah, and _please_ be sure to watch your spikes," Michael said.

"Don't worry, I will. Now get ready," she said, taking her fighting stance. Michael did the same, tilting his left side forward, both arms raised.

"Kick his ass," Thomas shouted.

"Thomas, shut up." For a moment, they stood there. Michael thought over how he would attack, approximating how long it would take him to take her down, and struck. He went for her stomach - if all went well, he could make her lurch forward, to which he could sweep her legs out from under her and make her fall. But what happened couldn't have been further from that. Instead, Layla swept his arm aside, dashing under it and harshly striking his right side. Before he could adjust or react, she gave him a sharp uppercut under the ribcage, taking the breath out of him, making him unable to continue that round. Thomas laughed, and he just knew he would never let him forget this event.

He had never lost a fight so fast, and that alone struck a blow to his pride. Layla's strikes hadn't been unbearable in their power - he had received many hits just as strong. However, the speed of her attacks was something that he was entirely unprepared for. Throughout their time there, Layla kindly reminded him with her blows that pokémon _were_ better at fighting than humans - a reality that he had seem to have forgotten. "I'm only doing this to help you," she stated, matter-of-factly as she knelt down over her trainer.

For hours, they continued to spar, him trying to adapt to such speedy movements, only managing to get a few hits in on her. Michael and the others were to rely on their weapons in the chance they had to fight a pokémon. But hand-to-hand combat with one? He had found himself on the ground many more times than he'd like to admit. "You'll get better," she assured. "You take pain pretty well, and you hit hard."

"Not hard enough apparently," he muttered.

"I'm a steel type - we can take much more punishment than other types. No, your problem is that you're a little careless and not quick enough. If we practice on a regular basis, though, I'm sure you'll beat me." He secretly hoped so. Perhaps it was his wounded pride, but he did _not_ like losing. But just as she had said, the two of them would need to practice more.

Veronica's day definitely terrified him the most. He exited the base and headed out to the runways, as they would be an open enough area to take off and land. "You ready?" she asked.

"Not at all." She got on all fours, which looked kind of silly, being that she walked on two.

"Oh well," she said. "Hop on."

"Listen, do we really have to do this? I mean, this is just—."

"Michael, shut up and hop on." Her face lightened up. "You promised," she said, somewhat hurt. _Dammit, trying to guilt trip me… and it's working…_

"Okay, you're right - I did," he relented. He climbed up on her back, right beneath her wings. "Are you sure you'll be able to do this? I'm easily two-thirds your weight."

"You'd do well to remember that we aren't as weak as you humans," she chuckled. "Now brace yourself!" She wriggled in anticipation, bounded forth, and up. The world as he knew it disappeared beneath them, his breath being taken away from the sudden force.

"Oh shit!" he yelled. He was instinctively gripping her lower neck in terror, wondering how he wasn't choking her, but couldn't get himself to let off. The ground rapidly drew further away as they steadily climbed into the air. "Way too fast!" She sped up, then rotated back, making a backwards loop, then even out into more of a glide.

"See? That wasn't too bad, now was it?"

"Ver, if you ever do that again—."

"Oh, but we _will_ be doing this again."

"There is nothing you could possibly do to get me on your back ever again." He had finally regained his breath, but still gripped her tightly in terror, slightly trembling.

"Sure there is - all I've got to do is ask." She tilted her neck back, looking at him over her shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

"Give me a single instance where you've denied a request from _any_ of us." He thought back, trying to find a case - a single case - that he could bring up, but he realized she was right. "See? I just have to ask, and you'll give in."

"I can see that I've spoiled you," he said.

"Mmm, no — not really… alright, maybe a _little_ , but not much. You just love us too much to say no, that's all." _Damn, she's right - I do kind of give in to them._ "Can't you just try to enjoy this? I mean, look at how calm it is up here. No cares, no worries - just us and the clouds." After relaxing himself (and forcing himself to focus on her, rather than the ground), he found himself more at ease - still nervous, but not as much. Thankfully, Veronica decided that a fifteen minute ride would be sufficient for their first flight. She went into a nosedive, spiraling quickly towards the earth. When she neared the ground, coming about thirty feet away, she opened her wings quickly, snapping up and slowing their descent, to which she drifted lazily down to the ground, landing on all fours. Michael stumbled off, feeling sick from what she just put him through, and fell to the ground.

"You crazy… _gasp_ … freaking dragon." He felt dizzy and rushed; everything was spinning.

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy yourself," she chortled.

"Yeah, maybe I _was_ enjoying myself - _before_ you pulled that stunt. Couldn't you have just drifted back down - you know, _gently_?"

"Hmm, maybe, but that would've taken too long. You need to learn to live a little - have some fun."

"Well I'm sorry that my definition of fun doesn't include near death experiences," he said.

"Then you're going to continue to _be_ sorry if you don't adapt. Lucky for you I took it easy today."

"Lucky? How the hell was _that_ taking it easy?" Michael asked. She stood up finally, rubbing the dirt off of her front claws.

"That flight? Honestly, do you expect every flight to be that dull? No, next time we're gonna take it up a notch."

"No, we are _not_ doing _anything_ like that again. You could have killed me!" he yelled.

"Do you not trust me?!" she roared, making his hairs stand on end. "What, do you think that I would have _dropped_ you?! Let you fall?"

"Well it sure fucking _felt_ like it," he snapped.

"Michael…" she said, her tone softening. "I would never let you get hurt." Immediately, he felt bad about snapping at her. _Of course she wouldn't let me get hurt - what was I thinking?_

"…I'm sorry, Ver. I know you wouldn't have dropped me. I just got a little scared, that's all. Haven't really done anything like that before…"

"I know, I know," she sighed. "All you need to do is hold on and trust that I will not let anything happen to you. Do you think you could manage to do that for me?" she asked sincerely.

"I… I'll try, Ver."

"Thank you," she said, hugging him. They stood there for a moment, simply embracing one another in the middle of the runway. Finally, she let go of him. "Would you like to give it another shot?"

"Hell no - not today," he laughed.

 **...**

This too shall pass - that refers to both the good and the bad. Tuesday rolled around, and Michael found himself waking to the shrill cries of the alarm he was forced to set, rather than naturally or from the gentle prodding of a glaceon. It was quite an unwelcome change, but a necessary one, though - they had somewhere to be that morning. He repacked his bags quickly, as there wasn't much to pack - seven sets of clothes, his phone, revolver, a few trainer items, and an evolution stone collection, missing only one. Not long after that, he and the six Reapers found themselves at the runway, boarding a jet for Kanto. The base was west of Route 26, in the midst of the western plains, surrounded by nothing but tall grasses and woods on the backside. Unfortunately, he had to confine the girls in their balls for the duration of the day long ride - the jet simply wasn't large enough, with a letter couch on each side, as well as a small table in between, leaving only a foot and a half space to pass by to the bathroom in the back.

"Alright," Wesley said as soon as they were in the air. "No doubt you boys are wondering just why in the hell we are heading over to Kanto."

"It's been on my mind, yes," John stated.

"Yeah, what the hell could be going on in _Kanto_?" asked Thomas.

"Everything - everything is going on in Kanto." Wesley replied. "My last team and I spent two years there. I don't know how else to say it, but… we're fighting a war on terror…" For a moment, no one uttered a word, reflecting on what he had said.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised," Michael said. "It has something to do with that incident in Hoenn, doesn't it?" Wesley nodded.

"That was the one of the few times they got _caught._ They've done far more than you would think."

"So what are we dealing with here?" asked Kevin, but in a much more respectful tone than last time. It seemed like he'd learned his lesson.

"Trafficking - both humans and pokémon - some for slavery, some for sex. The kind of stuff that really makes your blood boil - makes you want to kill every last one of 'em. There's several groups involved, but they stick together, more or less." The commander looked aside steadily, gazing out at the mountain peaks as they whizzed past. "They've got their hands in the drug and illegal weapon markets, too, but we're used to _that_ kind of shit by now…"

"So we're going to do something about it, aren't we?" Alex asked.

"Yep, we'll be shutting down any of their operations that we find out about, as well as taking out any admins that we find."

"We'll be doing assassinations?" Michael questioned.

"Of course - that's the only way to ensure that this shit completely stops," Wesley said. "Are you against the idea?"

"Fine by me," Michael replied. "People that are willing to sell others for money… no, we don't need people like that around - even in prisons. I'm totally fine with killing them."

"Good to hear, because all of you will be doing plenty of that," he commented. "And sooner than you think."

"How soon?" asked Kevin.

"Well, y'all's first mission is in two days…"

"That soon?" Alex asked. "Well damn, can't you at least give us time to settle in?"

"As I've said before, we don't _have_ time. Every day, more are captured and sold off - we have to act now. Their main targets are wandering trainers, their pokémon, and wild pokémon, and they've literally got _thousands_ in custody. That massacre… that wasn't a one-time deal…" He sat back in his seat, calm despite the topic at hand, before continuing. "So here's a rough outline of our upcoming activity: we'll spend nine months at the Kanto base - more or less, depending on the situation, and leave afterwards. Next tour, you can expect to join up with the Twenty-first Reaper Squad. They'll be able to give you better field advice than I could offer - after all, they've been involved in this line of business more recently than I have. Instead, I'll be hitting you six up on debriefings and strategies; they'll address tactics."

"How long will the ride take?" asked Kevin. Wesley thought it over silently for a moment before responding.

"Probably nine, ten hours - depending on weather conditions." Kevin sighed, and propped his feet up on the table.

"Take your damn feet down."

 **…..**

The West Kanto base was much smaller than the one they had just left, able to house near a thousand. The runway they landed on extended into the left entrance, which allowed for the jet to be docked. Two large helipads were at each side of the runway, filled with Chinooks, Apaches, and a couple of Ospreys. Large, dull concrete walls surrounded the base in its entirety, equipped with barbwire on top. In front of the front gate was the rather lackluster main building, which housed the cafeteria, main offices, meeting quarters, offices, and labs. Behind it was the housing building, which stood two stories tall, and extended two stories below ground level. "Your rooms are at the end of the first floor," Wesley said. "Don't worry, they follow the same Reaper standards - look exactly like your other ones." A small training building was placed at the back right corner, housing a gym and an indoor target range. At the front left section, the armory resided, and was easily a third of the size of the main building. All of the land-based vehicles lay within the remaining front right area. "Home sweet home," Wesley said, taking a deep breath. "It's been awhile since I stepped foot here." They were shown around the complex, familiarizing themselves with its ins and outs - after all, they would be spending close to a year here. "Y'all are dismissed," he told them. "The mission debriefing is tomorrow at four. Don't be late." The six cut through the main building to reach the housing sector, heading to the designated end of the first floor as instructed. There definitely weren't as many rooms as there was at the Johto base, but they could easily make do with eight. They each chose the same room as they had last time, except for Samuel, who chose the one on the end, though he had to be much closer than he likely would have preferred.

Entering into the identical residence, he released the girls from the confines of their balls.

"Damn I hate that thing," Veronica said, stretching her wings and arms. "This better not be a frequent event." He understood her frustration - the girls usually didn't have to spend a minute in their balls, and they had just spent fourteen hours inside them. And Veronica had the most hatred for them, too.

"It won't," Michael assured her. "Just for the longer flights - we won't have another for nine months." He unpacked, deciding not to hold it off until later - putting his clothes in the dresser of the master bedroom, and simply emptying the rest of his bags contents into the nightstand. The 686, though, as well as his newly obtained dagger, stayed at his side at all times. If he wasn't already paranoid _before_ the massacre (as he often slept beside his revolver), he certainly was now. Without a doubt, he was ready to blow out the brains of anyone who would try to harm the girls or him.

 **…..**

They all stood around a sleek, black table, embedded with a display screen, controlled by the tablet that Wesley held in his hands. "So here's who we're dealing with tomorrow," he began, pulling up a photograph of a man in a dark corduroy jacket walking out of a gas station store. He had a slight grin on his face - not malicious. His golden blonde hair gave him somewhat of a childish look.

"This guy?" Alex asked.

"Don't let his looks confuse you - that's Derrick Rossler. He's one of the biggest starter smugglers across the regions. He jumps around frequently, so we need to be sure to stop him while he's here - don't know when we'll get another shot at him. We have reason to believe that he and his gang will be in the northern Viridian Forest tomorrow at noon, and I want the six of you to drop every single damn one of them."

"No prisoners?" John asked. "I mean, not that I have a problem with it or anything, but couldn't we get info outta them?"

"No need," Wesley said. "We know _exactly_ where the asshole has been. Hasn't exactly cleaned up his trails - and trust me, he makes quite a mess wherever he goes. Best thing we could do is drop him." He swiped to the side, progressing the presentation. A map of the Kanto region popped up with several red dots. "This is where he's been in the last few weeks: Lavender, Saffron, and Pallet, all in a row, and he's likely to continue into Johto."

"Like hell he will," Michael said. "What are we getting?"

"Five of you will be getting Tavors, but that generally goes without saying. Thomas, I've got something more… _fitting_ … for you this mission. How do you take to the Negev?"

"That'll do just fine," he said.

"Well, we've got one with your name on it," he replied. "Now, everyone will be using a CZ 75 SP01 - that's the nine we've come to favor in the last few months. My guess is that there won't be more than twenty at the meeting, so you won't need to pack too heavily." He looked them over, before continuing. "All that being said, are there any questions?" No one responded, but finally John spoke up.

"What time do we leave?"

"Six in the morning - not a minute later." Again, no one said anything, so Wesley concluded. "Get to sleep early tonight - you've all got a long day ahead of you tomorrow."

He left the meeting room and unleashed the girls. They first hit the cafeteria before returning to their quarters for the night. He set the alarm on his phone to 5:30 - just enough time to get in a quick shower to wake him up. "Here's my card," he said, handing it to Layla. "Won't be here most of tomorrow, so you four will be able to get your meals." She looked at the card in her hands, then looked back up at him.

"Do you have to go?" she asked.

"You know I have to, Layla. Don't worry, I'll be okay - nothing's going to happen to me."

"Michael," she retorted, "you're going out there to _kill_ people - they're going to fight back. I can't help but feel worried about you…" He knelt down and drew her close.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine, okay?" She was still looking down, though up against him. He gently took her chin and raised it up, making her make eye contact with him. "I need you to trust me on this, okay?"

"Okay…"

"Thank you," he said, kissing her cheek. "And when I return, we can have another sparring match."

"Really?"

"Yep - promise."

"Well then, I'll look forward to roughing you up a bit more," she giggled.

 **…..**

Michael and the others, including Wesley, were nearing the drop-off point. They were riding the Chinook, which had been loaded with their armor and weapons, and had been designated as their mission vehicle. "Suit up boys," Wesley said. "Drop-off is in ten." They went into the back corridor, where their suits were lined up, weapons over them. Wordlessly, they began changing into their Reaper suits, concealing every part of their bodies, except for the backs of their heads. He grabbed his Tavor and three clips, attaching them to his belt, holstered the 9mm pistol on his right side, the dagger on his left. "Alright, odds are you boys will have a bit of a walk ahead of you. We couldn't pull up too close - don't want to alert them to our presence." The helicopter touched down in a small clearing; the back door opened, revealing the bright light in the midst of the dark woods. "Remember - I've got both visual footage and radio, so I will see and hear everything that's going on, and try to advise you from there. Now get out there and make us proud." The six of them, clad in their dark suits, trailed into the woods. Behind them, the helicopter's blades stopped whirring, shutting down completely.

"Masks on," Alex said. Michael pressed the small but present dial on the left side of the mask, back close to the bottom of his jaw, springing his visor's display to life. The bottom left corner showed his two weapons, fully loaded - the Tavor showing 30/60, and the pistol only showing 18 - representing their ammunition. The bottom right corner showed a blank grid with a yellow dot, along with five red - showing their positions in perspective to each other, or at least on a two dimensional scale, complemented by a visual compass. He switched to thermal night vision - though it was the middle of the day, it definitely helped in the darkness of the Viridian Forest.

"Keep north; stay in the brush," Wesley said. "Darkness is your friend." They trudged through the gloomy forest, far from the lively paths that trainers often traveled. A golden tree caught Michael's attention, shimmering from a multitude of kakunas aligning it. "Best step away from that," Wesley warned, but Michael had already done so. _The last thing I need is to get in a firefight with a swarm of beedrills…_ Though pokémon usually didn't attack, and were relatively peaceful in the wild (or at least, to humans), that didn't dismiss the possibility. It had taken them nearly twenty minutes to navigate to the place of the suspected meeting. Sure enough, it was there, figures of over a dozen men came within view, as well as five disorderly parked trucks. Three held supplies of various kinds, but the other two held cages.

"Alright," John said, "I'll flank around to the side to get a better angle."

"That's the only way you'll be able to safely take them all out," Wesley said. "Someone else - Alex - go join him. Once the two of you have made your way around, then you all can proceed. Do not try anything beforehand - it'd be too risky, and you are all still rookies by my book." Alex followed John to the side. The others readied their weapons, watching the scene unfold before their eyes. With camo shirts and dark pants, the enemies almost looked like they were hunters. The only thing that dismissed this idea was the fact that the season for any big game was out, and they were carrying AKs rather than hunting rifles. Though he was hidden in the enshrouding shrubbery, Michael was close enough to see the gleam of the wooden grips.

"There's the fucker," Michael said, pointing out a figure, propped up against the side of one of the trucks. He looked just like he did in the picture - not the type one would suspect to be involved in this kind of business. After a moment, he motioned towards one of the trucks.

"Get the bitch. See if she'll tell us anything now," Derrick said. Two of the guards went to a vehicle, snatched a woman out, and flung her to the ground. Without a word, he kicked her harshly in the ribs, making her shriek in pain and roll over. She was wearing a stained lab coat, her short, brown hair unkempt, and a pair of broken glasses. _I'm going to kill him for that._ One of the two guards grabbed a small cage out of the truck, tossing it beside her. A scared bulbasaur lay inside, sobbing at the predicament they were in.

"I'm gonna be honest with ya," he said to the downed woman. "I'm gettin' pretty fucking sick and tired of this." He knelt down to her, grabbing her chin and forcibly making her look at him. "I tried playing nice, but that hasn't gotten me anywhere, now has it?"

"N-nice?" she stuttered. "You all have be—." He brought his fist down, striking her in the face, and breaking her nose.

"I wasn't done talking, bitch" he spat.

"Are you two almost there?" John asked. "We can't just sit here and watch."

"Almost there," Alex said. "Give us a few more - we're right behind the trucks, so we've got no shot on them."

"Hurry the hell up," Michael said, watching Derrick stand up again.

"So here's what's gonna happen," he said, making his way to the back of the truck, grabbing something out of the back of it - a five gallon gas can. _Oh no…_ "You're gonna tell me _exactly_ where the hell Oak is keeping the starters."

"I've already told you, I don't know! He never t—." He kicked her again, this time in the side, sending her down once more.

"Enough of that shit, no one's falling for it, sweetheart." He pulled out a lighter and popped the cap off of the gasoline can. "If I don't get an answer in the next ten seconds, I'm torching the little fucker and blowing your brain out." She started wailing, and he turned, tilting the can over the hysterical grass type. At that moment, Michael caught sight of the large handgun at his side. _No… it can't be…_

In terms of self-defense, a Desert Eagle was about as impractical as one could possibly get - it was big, loud, kicked like a mule, and was expensive to both buy and shoot. However, the if iconic gun could do one thing _very_ well, it was striking fear in to the hearts of those at the other end of its sights. Any gun could prove intimidating when being pointed at you, but when a pistol literally takes the top of someone's head off… well, if that isn't terrifying, then nothing is. And if you bought a Desert Eagle, odds are you got it chambered in .50AE. _He was there!_ It all made sense now - Derrick was one of the smugglers involved in the Hoenn Massacre. The littered about cases belonged to him - he had killed many of those people at the incident.

"Seven… six…." The woman was screaming, pleading - she really did not know where they were.

"We just made it around," John said.

"No time to waste," Wesley said. "Who's got who?" Before anyone else could say anything, Michael spoke up.

"I've got Zippo and the three surrounding guards. Leave them to me."

"Alright," said Thomas. "I got that there group to my right." Within seconds, everyone had chosen their targets.

"Three… two…"

"Go!" Wesley shouted. They obeyed, and turned the situation into a one-way slaughter very quickly. The six of them were outnumbered three to one, but fully automatic weapons tend to compensate for numbers. Most of the enemies never saw it coming; a few had but scant seconds to do anything - not that they could react quickly enough to do anything to save themselves. Michael only focused on his targets - one of them, after all, was about to kill. Instinctively, his rifle came to life, tearing through Derrick's side, drawing over to the other three - through one's chest, another's neck, and the last's head. In the midst of it, he could see the others fall, some in front of the trucks, getting shredded by Thomas's Negev, or to his left - a couple falling from carefully placed shots in between the eyes. As quickly as it had started, it was finished. All, except for one. The six emerged from the darkness, but Michael made his way to Derrick's fallen body - red staining his left side, one in the top of his chest. He tried to withdraw his Desert Eagle, but he was too late. Michael released several shots into his arm, making him fall back, writhing and cursing in pain. Michael set his rifle down, grabbed his collar, and slammed his fist into Derrick's face, pulled back, and hit again. The third time, he slammed into his jaw, breaking several teeth in the action, and hurtling the man to the ground.

"Get these two out of here," he said, pointing to the lab assistant and the bulbasaur. "Wouldn't want them to see this."

"Michael," Wesley said, "I know th—." He never got to finish; Michael turned off his mask.

" _Now_ ," he stated. Thomas stepped forth and helped the woman to her feet, who had to lean on him for support. Alex took the cage, unlatched it, and let the bulbasaur run to its trainer. They made their way back to the drop-off zone. Michael turned back to Derrick, and pointed his rifle at him.

"N-no… please!" His pleading did no good, as the echoes of gunfire interrupted him. One shot in each knee - he wasn't going anywhere. Michael stomped the left one, the man screaming out once more. "Pl-please… have mercy," Derrick wailed. That _fully_ triggered Michael.

"Mercy? MERCY? Why the fuck do you think you deserve mercy?!" he screamed. He punched him in the throat, making him wheeze. "Did _you_ give them mercy when _they_ asked? When _you_ shot, burned, and raped them - did you give them mercy?!" He stomped his hand into the ground, hearing the crunching of bone under his foot, before walking off to the side. Derrick attempted to say something - perhaps to curse him, but he could not utter the words. "No, you don't _get_ mercy." He picked up the fallen gas container. Though it had tipped over, it spilled little of its contents. The ground there was mostly dirt; fire wouldn't spread. He drenched Derrick from head to toe with the flammable liquid. Raised the lighter and opened it, flicking on the flame.

"No…" he gasped, "please." Michael stood over him.

"You reap what you sow," Michael said, dropping the lighter.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Well, that about sums up Chapter 2. Please leave a review if you enjoyed, and to offer suggestions/criticism. I cannot express how much that means to me as a beginning writer. Other than that, see you all next chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**

 **Third chapter's up! Hoping to get some more publicity with this story, though that will likely come the more I update. However, that does not mean that I will release less content per chapter (most likely). Like I said, I've already got most of this story written out, so now I'm trying to "fine-tune" it.**

 **One area I forgot to mention in my last notes is that I am open to receiving OCs, and even implementing them heavily into the plot. This is to be a four "book" series, so I've got** _ **plenty**_ **of content to bring forth. If you like, your character suggestions could be a part of that. You can leave a character proposal in the reviews or simply PM me, and we can discuss it in more detail via PM.**

 **Anyways, time for the disclaimers. I am in no way affiliated with Pokémon, Nintendo, or Game Freak. Their characters belong completely to them. I am only the owner of my OCs. I also am not affiliated with any of the companies that make the products in this fan fiction, including Boeing, STI, IWI, H &K, Smith and Wesson, and Netflix, to name those on the top of my head. **

**Without further ado, enjoy reading, and please leave a review if you have any suggestions, corrections, criticisms, or wish to share your thoughts.**

"…" **\- Spoken dialogue  
**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

* * *

" **There are things that are worse than war; cowardice, betrayal, selfishness."**

 **-Ernest Hemingway**

* * *

 **Ch. 3 - Liberators  
**

"Higgs, in my office - _now._ " Wesley's tone didn't sound very amused. The ride back had been uncomfortably silent, Wesley occasionally shooting him a disapproving glare. That secret stunt he had pulled hadn't settled too well with him. After all, he had turned off his mask, and the others had left - whatever he had done was off the camera. Apparently, that wasn't very well taken to…

Michael followed the Commander, going through the main building and into his office towards the back left section. Wesley paused in front of his door, and opened it, motioning for him to go inside. A large wooden desk, covered in papers, a document shredder off to the side, and a map of the Kanto region on the wall. He shut the door with a slight slam, and took a seat in the large leather chair on the other side of the desk. With a nod, he signaled Michael to do the same on the other side before speaking.

"Mind telling me what the hell that was about?" Michael had trouble finding the words - a problem he almost never had. "I asked you a question, Higgs."

"I… lost it back there," he admitted.

"What did you do, son?"

"Nothing he hadn't done before…"

" _What_ did you do?" Wesley asked, clear annoyance in his voice. "Out with it." Michael looked down, unable to hold his gaze, before finally admitting to his action.

"I burned him," he finally said. "Burned him alive." For a moment, neither of them spoke. Of course, Wesley was the one to break the silence.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!" he yelled. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Nothing, sir."

"Nothing? NOTHING? You mean to tell me you set a man on fire and think that _nothing_ is wrong with you?" He narrowed his eyes at him, looking at him curiously. "Are you a damn psychopath?"

"No sir."

"Explain to me exactly why the hell I should believe you to be mentally sane." Michael thought over a response, even going so far to question his own mental state, but formulated as best of a defense as he could.

"Derrick was _there_ ," he said. "He was there at the Hoenn Massacre."

"Under what evidence?" Wesley asked.

"He had this," Michael said, pulling out the Desert Eagle.

"Oh? So now you're looting, too? This just keeps gettin' better and better."

"No, look at the caliber."

"Yeah, a .50 - so what? Almost everyone that gets one of those gets it chambered in that caliber."

"There were .50 AE cartridges all around several of the bodies at the Hoenn Massacre - particularly around the starters, and near the cages that were set on fire. There is no doubt that he and his men were behind those deaths." Wesley picked up the gun, looking it over. Surprisingly, the serial number had not been scratched off - the gun was likely legal. "Commander," Michael continued, "this guy set other people on fire…"

"So you felt that you were delivering justice by doing the same? Eye for an eye?"

"Yessir. I did at the time, at least." Michael looked down, somewhat ashamed of his action. "Look, I know _now_ that I should have killed him just as quick as I did the others… but I wasn't thinking like that at the time… All I could think about is how much pain he had caused…" The only sound accompanying their ears was the ticking of the clock on the wall, as well as a few faint voices outside.

"So why did you do it?" Wesley asked, this time calmly.

"I guess… I guess I felt like I was avenging those that he had tortured to death… Look, I'm sorry - I wasn't thinking straight at the time. I gave in to rage… I just kind of… lost it."

"Alright," Wesley sighed, "look - I understand how you felt… but you can't just go around doing shit like that, understood?"

"Understood."

"The law doesn't take well to this stuff… _Fortunately_ for you, there is no evidence of your action caught on tape. Unlikely any questions will be asked, so I'll let this slide - just this _one_ time."

"Thank you, sir. It won't happen again."

"It better not," Wesley replied. "We don't need to sink to their level - we just send 'em to hell. Now get going - no doubt your girls are worried sick - they always are at first." Michael stood up, heading towards the door, and leaving the Desert Eagle on his desk - it would be none to soon if he never saw it again.

 **…..**

He was hit harder than he had been in any training fight as soon as he walked through the door. "Oh, thank Arceus!" Veronica said. "We were so worried about you!"

"As you can see, I'm perfectly fine." He got back to his feet, rubbing the dragoness's neck. "Have you all eaten dinner?"

"Yep," Charlotte responded. "The cafeteria here is much better than the one back in Johto."

"Good to hear. How was y'all's day?"

"Eh, it was alright," she replied.

"Pretty good for me," Layla said, "Knocked that shiny greninja around like a rag doll in the battle ring today."

"Oh?" he chuckled. "Hope you didn't hurt him too badly."

"Nothing an ice pack won't help… alright, that and about a week of rest," she laughed. "But I was worried about you. How'd it go?"

"Pretty good for our first mission," he said. "Resolved the situation, got two hostages outta there."

"Really? Tell us all about it."

For the next half-hour, he did just that - recalling every minute detail. The fact that he had now taken four lives had shocked them, but they came to terms with it, expecting no less of him given his profession. However, he stopped before the "pyromaniac" part, gaining slight annoyance from them.

"What happened next?" Veronica asked. "That can't be it." Michael looked to the side, gazing at the muted television.

"It isn't, but there are things that I prefer not to tell you girls. No doubt you'd never look at me the same."

"What is it?" Elise asked. "Michael, you never keep secrets from us…"

"Well this is going to be an exception, okay?" Charlotte placed her paw over his hand, making eye contact with him.

"Michael…" she said, catching his attention. "You… made it painful, didn't you?" For a moment, he gave no reply, but then he nodded.

"He was there - back at Hoenn. He helped slaughter and torture all those people… I lost control of my anger."

"You gave him a taste of his own medicine, didn't you?" asked Veronica.

"Yes… yes I did…"

"Good," she said. "He deserved it. Was it slow?"

"No," he sighed, "not really, but it was painful." He looked straight at her. "And that is _all_ I'm saying about it - you all have a good enough picture already, and I..." He cut himself off, barely able to contain himself in front of them. "Look, I'm not proud of it, and I didn't want you girls to think badly of me. I don't know what I'd do if—." Layla cut him off, hugging him tightly. He was barely able to restrain his tears.

"Stop that right now," she said, restraining herself as well. "I don't like seeing you like this." She raised her hand to the back of his head, drawing him in towards her shoulder. "I don't think what you did was right… but I can understand it."

"I don't see a problem with it…" Veronica said.

"Not now, Ver," Layla countered. "Just… don't sink to their level anymore, okay?"

"I won't," he promised.

 **…..**

He lazily flipped through the movie selection. The televisions were complete with both cable and Netflix, come to find out. _So I've got the option to be completely useless. Great._ As he browsed, Layla entered the room, sitting beside him.

"Whatcha looking at?" she asked.

"I don't really know," he laughed. "Mind helping me pick?"

"Sure - how about we watch that action movie we couldn't watch in the theater?"

"Great idea." Soon, the two of them were watching the movie, with Layla laying against him. He instinctively put his arm around her midsection, drawing her in closer. Nothing strange, but he and his pokémon always had a very physical relationship, always enjoying contact with each other.

"Layla?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for what you said earlier. It really meant a lot to me." She turned to face him, raising a paw toward his cheek, but mindful of her spike.

"I'll always be here for you," she said. "Just like you have been for me."

"You know, I've got to be the luckiest trainer in the world," he said.

"We'll see if you think that tomorrow," she laughed.

 **…..**

He stood in the debriefing room, holding an ice pack to his side, catching the Commander's attention.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

"Michael got his ass kicked again by his lucario," Thomas laughed.

"Oh? I'd have liked to see that," Kevin said.

"No, you wouldn't have - it wasn't even close."

"Thomas, shut the hell up," Michael snapped.

" _All_ of you shut the hell up," Wesley interrupted, calling them to attention once more. "Now, as I was saying before - the upcoming mission."

"Right," Thomas relented.

"New intel has shown that the traffickers are using Mt. Moon's cave systems for transport. Nothing new, either - they used Mt. Chimney and Fiery Pass back in Hoenn to keep out of the public eye. Tomorrow's their weekly round. The path they're using is pretty large - large enough to drive their convoys over. You all are gonna change that." He brought up the image of the path, which stemmed off of a cliffside, turning around a steep ledge. "You all will place charges on the site and wait for them to come. I need y'all to pay close attention to the cargo. If it's weapons, drugs, or anything of the sort, blow it to pieces. But if there are hostages… well, the six of you will have to dispose of them yourselves."

"Yeah, but where are we to hide?" asked John. "That is, in the event that we can't just blow 'em up."

"As you can see, there's a slight ridge on the edge of the cliff. That's where five of you will be hiding. Samuel, I want you to lay low here," he said, pointing to the area directly above the entrance. "That way, you'll have a clear shot at all of the drivers. Everyone is to use the standard load out, but with silencers. Gunshots will surely alert them, but y'all might be able to buy ourselves a few more seconds if they don't know that the drivers have been killed." After they addressed the specifics, they were dismissed for the day, and none too soon.

"What time are you leaving tomorrow?" asked Charlotte.

"Three. We need to get there by night, and we've got a long drive ahead of us. At least I get to sleep in a bit later this time."

"Thank goodness," she said. "Your alarm is ungodly loud, you know that?"

"Sorry," he chuckled. That night, he lay watching the news before going to bed. _So Kalos has finally done it… There's no recovering from this…_ Even though he disliked the ideology that was pumped into the minds of most Kalosians, he still loved the region, and even considered it a home of some sort.

The government had passed a new law, effectively raising the taxes on the wealthier citizens to a staggering 80% - for the "good of the community." The money would be used to pay for public facilities, governmental assistance programs, and technological/educational investments. Of course, the money would make its way there _after_ it was filtered through the pockets of the politicians. _I don't know what they don't understand - you can't just force the rich to pay for everything…_ True enough, after the last tax bracket increase, Alex and his parents moved to the Johto region, which favored much lower taxes, as the Morgan family was pretty well-off.

"In unrelated news, the prices of evolution stones have drastically risen." _What?_ "The supply has radically decreased within this last week, as quarries are coming up empty, and stone mines are being abandoned." _Oh shit…_ The view switched to a female reporter, standing in front of one of the said mines. In the background, you could see equipment and vehicles, all packed up and ready to leave.

"I'm here at Mistralton Cave, and as you can see here, the industry is departing from this location. With me today is Dalton Lanier, manager around these parts. Tell me, what has happened to the mines, and how has it affected business?" She extended the microphone to him, awaiting his response.

"Last few months we've been collecting less and less of the natural evolution stones, but this last week has been insane. We've only managed to come across a couple, and from what I understand, most of the mines are in a similar state. We can't wait around for hopes of things to get better - we're shifting our focus towards other minerals." The screen swapped back to the main news anchor.

"We don't know what has caused the shortage of evolution stones, but one thing's for certain - this is definitely bad news for trainers all over. They've disappeared completely from the stores, and are only available online. Prices for the stones still out there have soared sky-high, ranging from Ᵽ15,000 to Ᵽ35,000." _No…_ He crept into his room and took the small, thin case off of his dresser, before sneaking back out. Not that it made any difference - Veronica's snoring was enough to cover any noise he made. He unfastened the two latches on each side and opened it, looking at the four remaining stones. Once he had gotten an eevee, he decided to purchase a variety of the possible evolution stones that she could utilize - even including shards of both an ice and mossy rocks. She withheld evolving into a sylveon, because, as she had put it: "glaceons were simply the prettiest of the eeveelutions." He had bought these stones when they were cheap. Now, they were worth a ton. There was a fire, water, and thunder stone, as well as the remaining fragment of the mossy rock. That one may or may not be too rare, but the others… _I could sell these and make a fortune… I should check into it tomorrow…_ He settled down once more, and decided to turn in for the night.

Unfortunately, he was woken a little over an hour later. Looking over at the culprit, he saw Elise there. "Hey," he groaned. "What's wrong?"

"I couldn't sleep," she said. "Ver kept hogging the covers."

"Somehow I'm not surprised."

"Could I sleep with you?" she asked timidly.

"Of course you can." He slid over, making room for her, though it would still be somewhat of a tight fit. She wasted no time in hopping up beside him, snuggling into his side. He draped the blanket over the two of them, and couldn't help but look into her sapphire eyes, which were, at this point, only inches away from his own. He placed his hand on her cheek, drawing her closer and embracing her with the other. Elise gave his nose a tiny lick before settling into the crook of his neck.

"Sweet girl," he commented, kissing the top of her head. _I don't know what I'd do without them…_

 **…..**

"Remember Michael - not a scratch."

"I'll be fine, Ver. You seem to forget that we received top-notch training just for this kind of stuff."

"You're not bulletproof…"

"If I kill them before they can shoot, I won't have to be." The four looked at him rather surprised. _Probably went too far there…_ "Don't worry about a thing, girls - I will be fine." He left soon after, having to board the Chinook and depart for the mountains east of Pewter, twisting into Mt. Moon. As they boarded, however, they realized that they and the Commander were not the only ones there. Both a gardevoir and a male meowstic sat, near a pair of stretched out cots.

"These are two of the finest medics in the army - Grace and Sebastian. Both are phenomenal in the field of TMA."

"TMA? What is that?" John asked.

"Tele-Mitotic Acceleration," Michael answered. "Nearly all psychic-types have accelerated healing, as their minds synchronize with damaged cells, forcing them to multiply quicker and mend wounds. With tons of practice, they can use this ability on others." Grace looked pretty impressed.

"That was a pretty good explanation," she said. "How do you know of the practice?"

"Thanks - majored in bio."

"So wait just a sec," Kevin said. "It's just basically a heal pulse of sorts?"

"In a way, yes," Sebastian replied. "But this also works on humans - heal pulse doesn't."

"Oh."

"I thought it would be wise to bring along these two," Wesley said. "Last time, it was very unlikely that you boys would be shot at, but this time you could very well be involved in a firefight. It pays to be prepared - especially if one of you gets shot."

"That's comforting," Thomas said. After all, he _was_ a pretty big target.

"Keep in mind, though, that not all wounds can be healed," Grace said. "TMA can be used to heal flesh and bone, but a damaged organ… you might not be so lucky. Guard yourselves just as you normally would."

 **…..**

They hopped off of the large helicopter, which departed soon after. Scaling the pale cliffs, climbing down as the moonlight bathed it in a silvery glow, they found their designated places. "Set the charges Kevin." He, carrying five charges, jogged down to the trail, setting them one by one in a straight line in front of the cave. Enough to take out the trucks in a single-file line. Alex held the detonator.

"Stay alert - no telling when they could show up," Wesley said. Keeping their rifles raised, and their visors on thermal mode, they waited.

 **…..**

"Commander, I'm startin' to think this one's a bust. It's been over six hours," Kevin said.

"…Yeah… looks like it," he admitted. The sun was about to peak behind them. "Tell ya what - give it a few more minutes, then we'll swoop back in and pick y'all up."

"Sounds good," John said. The six of them readied themselves for departure, hearing the sound of an approaching vehicle.

"See you're coming by early," Michael said.

"We haven't left yet."

"Oh shit! Everyone get back down!" Sure enough, the convoy had arrived, slowly turning around the bend in the trail in order to avoid falling off the side. Four in total, the last one had made its way around, putting them back-to-back in front of the entrance to the cave… and Samuel. They quickly observed the trucks, their thermal view helping the Reapers scan over them. The first and last trucks only omitted heat in the expected regions of the truck - brakes, engines, the front - but not in the storage compartments. The middle two, however, were radiating tons of heat all over.

"Well that settles that," Michael said. "Disable the charges Alex."

"Take the first driver and passenger out, Samuel. On you," said Wesley. Suddenly, the windshield cracked - the only indication that the shots had been fired - in two places, and the truck slowed to a halt. "Samuel, take out the rest. Everyone ready up!" He went down the line, taking out the remaining drivers, spraying their blood and brains all over the front of the vehicles. Thomas was situated in the back, furthest from Samuel, and had a clear view of the final truck. The doors opened, and he silently sprayed its two inhabitants down.

"Four's clear," he told them. "Arceus, there has to be half a million in rifles and handguns in there." The rest slid down the slopes, standing in front of the three final trucks. Kevin crouched at the front corner of the second truck, aiming at the opening hatch of the first truck. It too, opened.

"What the fu—." He yelled, upon seeing the dead driver of the second vehicle, but was gunned down by Kevin.

"Holy shit," he muttered. "I don't think I've seen so much meth in one place…" The white bags were piled high within the transport truck, the back bags stained red with their guardian's blood. John, Alex, and Michael stationed themselves behind the second and third trucks, Michael taking the former alone.

"Pistols only," he said, withdrawing his own and hoisting his rifle over his shoulder. "Can't afford to over-penetrate if there's hostages." He could hear the creaking of the doors behind him, followed by the _thud_ of two bodies.

"Oh shit… oh shit…" Alex wailed. "This is some fucking bullshit."

"Sex-trafficking," Wesley muttered. "Children…" Michael, pistol raised, withdrew his dagger in the other hand, ready for the doors to open. What occurred next was all slow-motion for him. The door opening, the AK-47's aimed at him, a case ejected out of his CZ-75. A body fell towards him, one eye lifeless, the other shot messily out, in front of his pistol's line of sight. He faintly remembered what happened during that short eternity, but the next thing he knew, he was showered in blood. The second of the two enemies clutched his throat, blood spraying from his neck. Still on his feet, he had what looked like a continuous red ribbon pulsing from a severed jugular. Both he and the hostages were drenched. There was a third, though, and the ringing gunfire alerted him to his presence. Fortunately, he was not as prepared as the other two, and was still in the motion of raising the weapon, a streak of bullets trailing towards his feet, but to rise within seconds to his chest. Without thinking, he shot several rounds into him - up his arm, into his chest. He fell and dropped the weapon. Michael walked up to him, stepping on his hand when he reached for the rifle. He looked around at the caged hostages. Young girls - the youngest looking to be about twelve. He twisted his foot in anger, causing the guard to squirm in pain.

"These are children, you sick fuck!" He looked aside for a moment. "Close your eyes," he told them. He raised the dagger, ignoring the man's protests, and brought it down once. The enemy had raised his left arm, but the blade kept coming down. It was only stopped by the metal floor, sticking in it and releasing a high-pitched ringing sound. His forearm fell off, and his head rolled aside.

 **…..**

"That is who those people are - what they do. They don't have a moral low; they'll do anything for a buck," Wesley told them as they rounded up all of the captives. Nineteen in total, the oldest of them was sixteen. _T_ _wo fucking years younger than me…_ They were about to board the Chinook, but Wesley stopped him. "Thanks for finishing this one off quickly."

"I didn't want to…"

"I know, I know," Wesley said.

"I wanted to drag him out there and cut him into pieces," Michael admitted.

"Can't say I feel much different. But," Wesley continued, "there are laws."

"That doesn't seem to matter to them…" The two medics were working non-stop to investigate the victims. They left the area, delivering the freed girls to the nearest Pewter City hospital, before returning home. They arrived, thoroughly exhausted from the travel, and in the medics' case (both of whom had fallen asleep on the ride back), making it back to base near 4:00 the following morning. He took a quick, unfocused shower, collapsing as soon as he hit the couch.

 **…..**

"Earth to Michael!" He woke up to Veronica gently shaking him. "Oh look, it's alive," she joked.

"I'm up," he groaned. "What time is it?"

"Past noon. You must've been exhausted."

"Yeah… oh shit, have you girls eaten?"

"Mhm. Took your card and went to the cafeteria."

"Oh, okay."

"By the way," she said, "Charlotte wants to spend the day with you… or at least, the rest of it."

"Alright."

"Then it's my turn - we're going flying again."

"Great." He fully woke himself up, sitting up straight.

"I'm serious," she said. "We _are_ going flying tomorrow."

"I'm serious too," he replied. "When will Charlotte be here?"

"Right about now." Sure enough, the braixen came through the door.

"Hey Michael," she said, bounding in with excitement in her step. "You're booked for the rest of today, just so you know." _Well that's a funny way to put that…_

"Fine by me. What do you have in mind?"

"I don't know - we'll think of something. Probably just wander around and talk. Come on, let's go!" Within the hour, they were outside of the base, a couple hundred yards out front, shaded under a large oak tree. The guards, fortunately, had let him pass, and the pair of large metagrosses that stood watch steeped aside and opened the gates. He was laying against the large trunk, with Charlotte against his chest. He was twiddling a blade of grass in one hand, rubbing the back of her shoulder with the other.

"Michael?" she said, breaking the silence. He looked down at her.

"Hmm?"

"You know… the recent decisions about… _that_ matter, right?"

"About what?"

"You know…" her voice trailed off, getting significantly quieter. "Pokémon and human relationships…"

"Oh…" He hadn't been expecting _that_ out of the blue. It was a matter they had not really talked about before. They all likely had opinions on the matter, but they did not discuss them. The regions had different laws on the matter as well. In all of the regions, a relationship was allowed, but views _towards_ the relationships were viewed differently. Most had no _moral_ qualms with the prospect, but there were also many that considered it "unclean," "disgusting," or "perverse." Unfortunately, Johto had a majority of those that felt so. "You want to know how I feel about it?"

"Y-yeah."

"I see nothing wrong with it. I mean, humans and pokémon can reproduce. If they love each other, then who am I to judge? And besides, reproduction _is_ possible, so it isn't like it's any of that LGBT stuff or a crime against nature." She tilted her head back, making eye contact with him.

"Alright, so that's what you think about it in general," she said. "What about personally?" If there was a question he definitely didn't see coming, _that_ was it. He thought it over to himself before giving his response.

"Honestly, I hadn't really thought about it," he admitted. "I never have been focused on relationships. Guess that's the result from going to such a demanding school - kinda makes you a bit socially awkward, y'know?"

"Mhm."

"…As far as a personal relationship is considered… well, I guess I'd be willing to give it a shot."

"Really? You would?"

"I guess so, yeah."

"Alright." She nuzzled into his chest, hands under each of his arms.

 **…..**

"Earlier this morning, nineteen formerly missing girls were rescued from the grasps of sex-traffickers by the Reapers - Johto's most elite special forces unit. The Twenty-Fifth Reaper squad killed the seventeen traffickers and freed the girls, also securing large transports of illegal weapons and drugs."

"It all happened so fast," one sixteen year old girl, who was being interviewed, stated. "The trucks stopped, and before anyone knew what was going on, one of the men opened the door and he… he was just _there._ I don't think any of us knew what was going on until it was over, but he took out three guys by himself." She looked down and gulped. "I don't think I've ever seen so much blood. He killed two of them with a knife. Cut one of 'ems head off, after telling us to 'close our eyes.'"

"Sounds like you girls went through a lot," the reporter sympathetically said.

"Yeah… we did," she replied. "But it could've gone a lot worse. I'm just grateful that they got to us before those men could… could…." She stopped for a moment, starting to cry, but not loudly. "If you're out there watching… whoever you are… thank you… thank you…" _You are welcome._

 **…..**

He stumbled up to that same tree the next day, trying to keep his balance. In his dazed state, he stumbled and fell, rolling over to look straight at the sky.

"That was attractive," Veronica chortled.

"I blame you for this," Michael replied, his heart still racing. "Why… why do you do that?"

"Michael, you're going to have to get used to quick landings," she said. "We might not be able to make a slow, gentle landing."

"Why not? Are you planning for me to ride you into battle or something?"

"It could happen," she said.

"No, it will _not_. I will not allow you to go into combat," he said, finally able to make eye contact with her.

"You can and will," she retorted. "I will be fully able to protect you and myself."

"I don't care what you say, I will not allow it." She growled in response, and tried to say something, but he cut her off. "No - it only takes _one_ bullet - one in the right spot and you're dead! This isn't some fucking action movie or video game, this is _real life_. You may be strong, but y'know what? A bullet is stronger. You may be fast, but _they_ are faster. You have _no_ training in combat - and don't bring up your battling capabilities. This is different." Before he knew what had hit him, she had pinned him down roughly to the ground, holding his shoulders down.

"Do not underestimate me!" she roared.

"Don't overestimate yourself! You are not invincible!"

"Where is your faith in me? Do you not trust me to make the best decisions in keeping you alive?"

"I don't want to be alive if _you_ get _yourself_ killed," he cried out. Her features softened, as well as her grip.

"I will be okay, Michael," she said, drawing her claw lightly across his cheek.

"You can't guarantee that. Look, I know that you could take _much_ more than I could - it probably would take a pretty thick round to take you out. But just as you said to me - you aren't bulletproof. Bullet _resistant_ , maybe, but not bulletproof." He stroked the side of her face. "I can't lose you, Ver."

"Michael… If I get training - if I learned how to perform against your human weapons, would you allow it? I trust that you can keep yourself safe, even though the thought of you out there… it terrifies me. Would it not only be fair for you to do the same to me?" He tried to counter her, but he had to admit, she _did_ have a point there.

"Alright Ver," he relented. "If you receive military training, I will _consider_ it." She gave him a quick lick on the side of his neck. He couldn't help but blush from the awkwardness of the action, but he said nothing.

"Well, I guess that's a start," she said. She bent down on all fours, spreading her wings once more. "Now hop on - we aren't done for today." _I swear, this flygon…_ Nevertheless, he stood up and got back on.

 **…..**

"We're mixing it up a bit this time. Time for you boys to start the more… individualized missions. And towards the end of the week, y'all will be introduced to our partners around these parts."

"Partners?" Alex asked.

"Yep - our allies in the Kanto military. The Counterinsurgency Corps, or CIC. They're a relatively new organization, but they've done very well. You'll get introduced to them later, but for now, we've got three upcoming missions within the next four days to discuss."

"Three?" Kevin asked. "How the hell do you expect—."

"Don't strike that tone with me, boy!" Kevin shuttered under Wesley's response, but completely submitted, going silent. "If you would have listened for another moment, you're concerns would have been addressed. Now shut the fuck up and hear me out." _Commander Hawkins: 3, Kevin: 0._ Yes, he was keeping score. "Obviously, I can't expect the six of you to be able to perform these missions back-to-back - that would be absurd. So, I'm going to split the six of you into three groups. Once I divide you boys up, we'll individually discuss the three missions. Got it?"

"Makes sense, sir," John stated.

"So here's what I was thinking." He pulled up a map of the region, having three circled areas. "Thomas and Kevin will be stationed in Vermillion. Intel suggests that there may be an attempt to hijack the cruise liner, so the two of you will be equipped with short-range mortars and LMGs. If any terrorists show up, I expect the two of you will shred them to pieces."

"Will do," Thomas said.

"Michael and Samuel, the two of you will be stationed about twenty miles south of Route 7. We are fairly certain that there are poachers linked to trafficking in the area."

"Alright."

"That leaves John and Alex for night watch on Route 15. Keep your eyes open, we are thinking that there may be insurgents transporting goods there. Y'all are strictly watching - only intervene if there are hostages involved."

"Yessir," Alex said.

"Now, Samuel and Michael, you two stay here - your mission starts tomorrow morning. The rest of you are dismissed." The other four left the room, leaving the three of them to themselves. Within moments, the two Reapers were receiving their debriefing. "The group I'm sending you two after is pretty small - four people. However, they've been nabbing fire types in the area left and right, and we've seen evidence of rock-type attacks around those parts, so they very well could be using rock types in their work. Because of that possibility, you two will be armed a bit differently on this mission."

"How so?" Michael asked.

"Your ammunition, for starters, will be custom made for penetration rather than expansion, so no hollow-points. Heavy-grain FMJs is what you can expect, as they would be much more effective on any rock types. Also, your rifles will be equipped with M203 grenade launchers, and you'll get a frag or two each."

"What about the sidearm?" Michael asked.

"STI Nitro 10mms." Wesley pulled up a picture of the pistol on the table display. It was styled after a 1911, but chambered for 10mms rather than .45 autos. "FMJ as well." The 10mm had the most penetration of any of the _practical_ semiautomatic pistols, so it was a clear choice for this mission. He zoomed in on the map, showing a close view of the plains that they would be operating in. "Here's drop-off," he said, pointing to the top right corner. "The signs of attacks have been trailing eastward from here, so you two need to head southwest from your location in order to intercept them. Probably a mile, two mile walk - nothing bad."

"We taking any prisoners?"

"Not a damn one."

 **…..**

"Why on earth are you going to bed at… 5:00?" Layla asked.

"Because I'm leaving at three in the morning."

"Why do they snatch you up at the most ungodly hours?" she asked.

"Well, I don't think the traffickers exactly care about my sleep…"

"Why can't they get someone else to do it?"

"Not many people _can_ do it - or at least do it without getting shot up."

"I guess that makes sense," she admitted, "but I still don't like your sleep schedule getting screwed up like this."

"Oh trust me, I'm not too fond of it either. I'm sure Samuel dislikes it as well." She cast him a slightly annoyed look.

"You mean to tell me you got paired with that creep?"

"Layla, he isn't a creep…"

"He is pretty creepy," she stated matter-of-factly. _I can't really deny that…_

"Maybe. I'm sure he'll mellow out when he warms up to everybody, given enough time."

"If you say so," she said, giving him a quick hug and peck on the cheek. "Be safe, okay?"

"Don't worry, I will."

 **…..**

Of course, that was something that he couldn't fully guarantee. The next day, before noon, he found himself trudging through the tall grasses of Kanto's central plains, fireweed and wild grain brushing up against them. He had to make a conscious effort to step over the briars littered about, red-tipped and with large thorns. They had been walking nearly ten minutes when they found the beige twenty-foot truck.

"There it is boys," Wesley said over radio.

"Looks like they stole a box truck and painted over it," Michael commented.

"Samuel, settle down right where you are. Michael, you go around to the other side." He kept to the tall grasses, having to crouch down to remain hidden. _It would be a lot easier to hide if these suits weren't black…_ Nevertheless, he was able to do as instructed, finding his spot and scoping in to the backside of the truck to get a better view… well, as good of a view as he could get behind tall grass. About two hundred yards away, still visible on his mask's proximity display, he could faintly see the outline of Samuel in the brush.

"Ah, shit. There's a lock on the damn thing."

"Not a problem, you can just cut the thing off if need be." Michael switched to thermal view and found the truck to be totally radiating heat.

"Yeah, there are definitely a ton of pokémon there…"

"Wait it out. They _will_ be back with a load like that." He switched back to normal view, clutching his rifle, left hand on the M203.

"Yeah, that'd be a pretty fucking big payday," he muttered. "I'm guessing there's somewhere around thirty heads in there." They waited it out, which proved to be a more challenging prospect than he would have thought. Besides the hour-long wait with a selectively mute comrade, several factors contributed to the difficulty. The worst was the sheer heat. Growing up in Kalos, he was used to mild temperatures - even in the summer, and snow every winter. Here, right in the middle of Kanto, however, the heat was blistering. And his suit was doing anything but helping…

When they showed up, he was actually somewhat relieved. The sooner he sent them to the grave, the sooner he could get back onto that air-conditioned helicopter, back to the base, where he could take a cold shower… His thoughts about such things ceased when he noticed the situation at hand.

"Take five," the apparent leader had said. "Then we're outta here." They too were wearing camo attire, light beige, much like their surrounding atmosphere. The portly man in the back was carrying a cage with both hands. It contained a muffled vulpix, fur smooth and beautifully crimson, though her facial fur was messy, evidence of her crying.

"Fine by me," said the man carrying the cage. He lightly tossed the cage on the ground. "This one'll surely fetch a pretty penny. Just look at 'er - thing can't be much older than seven, eight years. Peakin' into her prime, probably. Gonna sell this one off for her body." Upon hearing this, she started whimpering, likely dreading her fate. _That's not gonna happen…_

It was then that the worst thing imaginable, or so they initially thought, happened. A drifting breeze parted the grass that Samuel was hiding behind, clearly revealing the dark silhouette of his Reaper suit. _That's just fucking great…_ The men walked around his side of the truck, much to his appreciation, but the vulpix noticed Samuel. She must have recognized at least part of what was going on, because she started yipping to him, likely in an effort to entice him into helping her.

"Shut the fuck up!" the leader yelled around the truck. Michael could see that they were sitting in the shade that it was providing. Samuel raised a single finger to his covered mouth, signaling for her to be quiet. She obeyed, but still looked desperately at them.

"Bryant, where the fuck are the golems?" another asked. "They should _be_ here by now."

"Hell if I know. They should be here any minute." _Fuck, so we are dealing with rock types… and golems of all things…_

"Go on ahead and take 'em out," Wesley advised. "You don't wanna get in a fight with both groups at the same time."

"Good call." The two of them switched the safeties off, moving their sights over the poachers' heads. The vulpix was still watching Samuel intently.

"On three," Wesley said. "One, two, three!" The shots silently flew, penetrating their oblivious targets' skulls, dropping them before they could even remotely comprehend what was happening. "Good, now hide the bodies. It'd be better to take the golems by surprise. You do it, Michael - you're much closer." He slung his rifle over his shoulder, dashing to the corpses. He dragged them into the nearby brush two at a time, moving as quickly as he could to avoid being caught by the soon-to-arrive rock types. On his third and final trip, he inadvertently looked at the so called "Bryant," who had been shot by Samuel. With a hole entering one ear and going out the other, Samuel knew _exactly_ where to aim. _Clean through the brain stem,_ Michael thought to himself. He tossed the body with the others, and rushed back to his hiding place, crouching in front of the boulder. Not long after, he heard the grass ruffling behind him. He paid no mind to it - after all, thousands of pokémon likely lived in the area. He did freeze up, though, when he saw the shape of a golem enter his peripheral. _Shit shit shit shit…_

"Don't… move," Wesley said to him. _Nah, I think I'll just jump up and introduce myself…_ The golem paused to his right, only a few yards away from him. The only thing saving him was the fact that he was relatively low to the ground and surrounded by tall grass - otherwise, his black, kevlar suit would stand out like a sore thumb. The first golem passed by, but was followed by three more. They trudged through, making their way to the opening. They looked around, visibly confused as to the whereabouts of the humans that they would never see again, yet were only a hundred yards away from. They stood close together in a group, so Michael took aim.

"This is as good a time as any. We should go ahead and launch the grenades."

"Yep - put it in the right place and you could hit several of 'em at once." The two of them held their rifles diagonally, approximating where the grenade would land. Michael placed his index finger on the front trigger - the one that corresponded to the M203 attachment.

"On three. One, two, three!" Two grenades shot, forming arches and landing among their targets. Samuel's shot hit one center-mass, blowing it apart completely, stone-hard skin and flesh spreading in each direction. Michael's landed near the feet of the others, sending them to the ground. They were fairly close to them, however, and noticed their locations, rolling towards them - two towards Michael, one towards Samuel. In a hurry, since he had no time to load another grenade, Michael started spraying at one of the incoming golems. He kept his aim towards the center - after all, with it rolling straight at him, he was bound to hit the head at some point. His logic sound, the lead golem stumbled and fell, with a visible hole in its forehead. He took another shot - just to be safe. It was, without a doubt, dead.

His attention snapped to the other one, and he squeezed the trigger once more. Empty. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and withdrew his 10mm pistol. He was able to release five out of the eight shots, but the golem was simply too close. He had to dodge, lest he get run over, and did so, but was too late. Or at least, too late in regards to getting out of the way _unscathed._ He hurled himself to his right, but the golem impacted his entire left side. He fell straight on his back, but got to his feet quickly. To his right, he could see Samuel, rifle raised, dodging the swipes of the golem attacking him. It broke out into a charging role, and he sprinted aside, grabbing the caged vulpix and likely saving her from getting flattened.

The two of them were in the brush, but he could clearly see where the golem was - the quickly shuffling grass made that pretty apparent. He fumbled around for his pistol, aiming just in time for it to uncurl itself and come charging on foot. He took his last three shots, but didn't have time to reload. He dove to the side as it nearly struck him - he only needed to make _that_ mistake once to learn from it. With no other close-range option, he withdrew his dagger. "Bring it bitch!" he yelled. The golem roared in response, and threw a left hook at his face. Without thinking, he swung his blade in order to counter it, sticking it halfway through the pokémon's wrist, causing it to hiss out in pain. Before he could withdraw it fully, the golem clawed him with its other hand, swiping into his ribs. The claws cut through to the innermost layer of the suit, but not quite to his skin. Not having the time to consider how close that was, he snatched out his dagger, spun to the side in order to avoid another frantic swipe, and brought it down straight through the back of its knee, severing the tendons and ligaments connecting the two bones. It let out a loud, pained roar, but quickly found itself unable to continue to make a sound. Once it realized what Michael had forced into its mouth, it was too late.

Michael left the scene of the small explosion, noticing the corpse of the golem that Samuel had been fighting. Only a barely attached jawbone remained of the creature's head - everything else was shot to bits.

"That should just about do it," Wesley commented. "We'll land on sight shortly. Go ahead and free the captives." Michael made his way to the truck, starting to stumble slightly. With his adrenaline dissipating, he recognized just how sore the brutal impact had made him. Nothing was too injured, but an ice bath would do him well that night. He approached the back doors of the box truck, and noticed the lock once more. He could search the bodies for the keys, or….

He harshly hit the latch with his dagger, severing it after three tries. Hoisting it open, he looked at the kidnapped pokémon. As he had assumed, there were nearly thirty in there - mostly growlithes, a few vulpixes, houndours, and a single plusle. Towards the back were larger cages, housing a pair of ponytas and an arcanine.

"Set 'em free," Wesley said. "Ask if any of them are willing to stay behind and answer a few questions - we could use the info. Be sure to tell them that they aren't obligated, though." Michael relayed the message before getting to work, cutting the locks off of the cages. Understandably, most of them darted off the second he stepped away from the cage, but a select few of them did remain behind.

"Thank you all for doing this," he said, rubbing the head of one of the vulpixes that stayed behind, causing her to purr. "We won't keep you long - we've got translators." The ponyta that had volunteered came closer and gently raised a hoof to his mask, motioning with her head for him to remove it. "Is that alright?" he asked Wesley.

"I don't see anything wrong with it." Michael raised his hands to the back of his head, though his left arm pained him, and undid the two straps keeping the mask in place. Once that was done, he placed them to the side of the mask and raised it, revealing himself to them. They looked surprised upon seeing his features. They surely weren't expecting someone so _young_ to be doing the work that most adults weren't capable of doing. Minutes later, the unmistakable sound of the Chinook's blades drew closer, and he stood up and rounded the truck once more, stepping out into the wide-open clearing. To his left, Samuel was also without a mask, kneeling down and embracing the now freed vulpix. It was then that Michael saw something that he never would have imagined possible - Samuel smiling.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **That concludes the third chapter of this story! Thanks for reading, and please leave a review or like (or both). Remember, I'm open to new OCs, so feel free to throw those out there as well.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**

 **Fourth chapter's here! This one's a bit longer, but not quite as long as the first. Definitely hits up on much more character development, especially in terms of Samuel, and extends on a character from the games. This chapter sets the stage for one of the climaxes, as well as the increasing tensions between Michael and his pokémon. All I will say is to keep an eye out - things will heat up in time. Lotta new friends in this chapter.**

 **Now, I do have a request for any of the readers who enjoy this story. I really do need help - I have little to no idea what I'm doing beside posting these chapters. I have no clue how to get familiar with the community, what I need to do with my profile - hell, I don't even know if I'm doing good with this story so far. I need some feedback from you guys. This story is a bit time consuming, so I want to make sure that it's being written well. By no means am I going to stop writing this story (got _waaaaay_ too much invested in it), but I'd like readers to give me feedback on how I'm doing - good or bad.**

 **Alright, disclaimer time. I by no means am affiliated with Nintendo, Game Freak, or Pokémon, nor do I own any of their characters. I simply own my OCs, nothing more. I also am not affiliated with any of the companies or products that I utilize in this story. That includes IWI, CZ, H &K, Smith & Wesson, Boeing, etc. **

**With all that outta the way, please enjoy reading, and please consider giving me some feedback.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

* * *

 **"If you kill enough of them, they stop fighting."**

 **-Curtis LeMay**

* * *

 **Ch. 4 - Breaking the Walls Down**

"Earlier, at 5:00 in the morning, a takeover of the S.S. Vermilion was attempted by domestic terrorists. Once again, members of the Twenty-Fifth Reaper squad intervened, and fought off the terrorists, preventing the hijack." Zooming in, the camera caught a glimpse of Thomas carrying a LMG on his shoulder, setting it down while Kevin took the wheel. They sped away in their boat, becoming more distant from the cameras, much to the displeasure of the media. Thomas flipped the channel - he was there; he didn't need to be informed of the events.

"Yeah, they're sleeping with the fish now," Kevin joked. "How'd y'all's go?"

"Ours was a bust," Alex said. "Stayed up all night and didn't see a thing."

"That sucks," Thomas said. "What about you two?"

"Ours went well. Thwacked some poachers and freed the pokémon. Two of 'em actually decided to stay with us."

"Oh? What were they?"

"An arcanine and a vulpix. Don't know where the arcanine went, but the vulpix chose to stay with Samuel."

"Gettin' soft on us, Sam?" he joked. "I mean, of _all_ pokémon, you decided to pick a vulpix?"

"Nothing wrong with that," Samuel replied. _Oh look, he speaks…_

"Never said there was, just saying it's… _unlike_ you. If you were to get a pokémon, I'd've expected something like… well, a dark type, for instance."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Actually," Michael retorted, " _you_ aren't wanting to talk, Thomas - what about your chikorita?"

"That's different - she'll evolve. She'll get bigger."

 **. . . . .**

"Time for y'all's first stealth mission," Wesley said.

"Fun," Thomas sarcastically said. He was _not_ built for stealth, being about as loud and destructive as a tank.

"Don't worry, I've taken your size into accountability for this particular mission. We leave in a week this time."

"Huh. You usually give the debriefings closer to the date of the mission," Alex said. "What's up with this one?"

"This particular mission is going to require much more planning, and it'll be a hell of a lot harder than marching up to oblivious enemies and mowing them down."

"Fair enough. What're we doing?" Wesley pulled up a map on the display, which zoomed into a geographical view of Cinnabar Island. He circled the northwest outskirts of its largest city, calling attention to the abandoned mansion.

"We've traced several illegal weapon shipments to the so called 'abandoned mansion.' And take a look at this." He pulled up a satellite image of the building, and then switched to thermal satellite imagery. The building was radiating an awful lot of heat to be unoccupied. "Calling bullshit on abandoned."

"So we're going to investigate?" John asked.

"That's an understatement. There will be three teams again - two infiltration, one overwatch. Thomas, if you can guess, will be in overwatch, along with Samuel. The two of you will be sniping from the rooftops. Thomas, since you don't have as much experience in the field, you'll be closer. The rest of you will be scoping out the building, and looking for any servers. First team is Alex and Michael, second is John and Kevin. Each team will take one half of the building, scoping out the inside. I cannot begin to tell you how important it is that you four _do not get caught_. It is absolutely imperative - you will _not_ be armed for significant combat. No - all y'all are to do is gather intel and get the hell out."

"What equipment will we be using?" asked Thomas.

"Depends on your position. You snipers will be getting .338 Lapuas, albeit modified. You will be using slow, heavy rounds for lack of penetration, as well as silencers. Infiltrators, on the other hand, will be given silenced UMP-45s and USP-45s. Each infiltration group will have a designated technician - Kevin and Alex. You two will also receive an EMP jammer in order to navigate past any cameras, as well as an extraction drive. Plug that in to any servers, and it'll do all the work. Completely untraceable." He displayed a three-dimensional image of the structure. "Now that that's outta the way, here's what we know about the structure. There are three stories above, and two below. We know for sure that the first floor is mainly stairs, that the second is likely a bunch of rooms, and that the basements are probably generators and equipment."

"That's all you know about the building?" asked Michael.

"The building records are inconclusive. The thing's been remodeled countess times before it was _truly_ abandoned, and it has been locked up tight for years. We don't even know how the hell they're getting into the place, but they are. Study up on these possible configurations over the next week," he said, handing them each a folder.

They addressed several other details about the mission, including how they would dispose of any bodies. "Just toss 'em out the windows. Most of 'em are broken out already, so you won't be making any noise. There will be support teams stationed outside that will get rid of the bodies quickly."

After a rather long hour, the six were dismissed, and none too soon. "Meet me back here in two days. I have someone I want y'all to meet." Not needing to be told twice, they left the room. A familiar vulpix was waiting outside by the door.

She trudged up alongside Samuel.

"Look who it is," John said. "What's her name?"

"My name is Nicole," she stated. "I've got a translator, y'know."

"Oh, sorry," he apologized. "Anyways, how're you getting along here?"

"Pretty good," she said. "The rooms are nice, and Sammy treats me well." That caught their attention.

"S-Sammy?" Kevin broke out into laughter at her name for her new trainer. He stopped, though, when an ember was shot at his feet.

"How rude! You ever make fun of my nickname for him again and I will _burn_ you."

"Damn," Alex whispered to Michael, "remind me never to piss her off."

 **. . . . .**

"Oooh," Veronica moaned. "That's the spot." She stretched her wings further, giving Michael better access to her shoulders.

"I swear," he joked, "the things I do for you." She shot him a dismissive look.

"Hey, this is _your_ doing - _you're_ the one that wanted me to get military training." Deciding to get back at her, he massaged her collarbone, rubbing up into her neck. "Ahh - don't do that!"

"Do what?" he asked innocently, knowing full well how sensitive she was there. She glared at him, a prominent blush on her cheeks. "I'm gonna get you for that," she said.

"Somehow I doubt it."

"You better watch your back," she growled playfully.

 **. . . . .**

The next day brought about perfect weather, sunny skies and warm temperatures. Elise had found this as the perfect opportunity to spend some alone time with Michael. She had recalled the presence of a river behind the base, slightly in the thin woods, and had inquired as to if they could go there. She had even, much to his humor, thrown out the idea of swimming. Figuring, though, that it was only fair that she get to choose their activities, he agreed, packing his swimsuit in his duffel bag, as well as some snacks as per her request. Her hyperactive demeanor was enjoyable to watch, and he had always loved to see her excited. Knowing that he could never be too safe, and partially due to the acquired feeling of vulnerability when unarmed, he also packed his revolver and dagger.

They departed from the base with special permission, and had quite a walk ahead of them. After about three miles, they found a spot that she had taken to, and settled down. The river coast had bordered the woods, being composed of small pebbles carried from upstream, which led from the mountains they could faintly see in the background. "This place is beautiful," she stated with beaming sapphire eyes.

"Gotta agree with you on that," he said, petting her side. "What do you wanna do now?"

"How about we just sit here for a bit?" She motioned to a boulder, slightly touched by the waters. "Catch up a little?"

"Of course." He sat with his back to the rock, and she lay across his lap belly-up. A sweet scent permeated the air, and he couldn't help but find himself attracted to it. Before he knew it, she was nuzzling into him furiously. "What's gotten into you girl?" he asked with a laugh, cupping her face.

"Nothing," she said innocently. "Nothing's gotten into me."

"Okay then…" He gave in, returning her affectionate gestures, which resulted in her nosing into his neck.

"How about those snacks?" she asked. He fished through the bag, setting aside the towels. A low growl gained his attention. A large mightyena emerged from the woods, six others behind it. They looked at each other and barked. He didn't know what they were saying, but he didn't like where this was going. The lead one growled at her, and she backed away.

"What did he say?" asked Michael.

"They want to…" she cast him a terrified glare.

"That's not gonna happen." With his hands still in the bag, he grabbed his revolver and pulled back the hammer. The lead mightyena stepped forth and bared its fangs, releasing an irritated snarl.

"He said that if I don't comply, they'll kill you." He looked frantically at each one of them, noticing an individual at the edge that was drawing particularly close to them. They were trying to surround them.

"Get ready to use ice shard," he whispered to Elise.

"O-okay…" she said nervously. The fear was obvious in her voice.

"Now!" he yelled, whipping out his 686 and aiming at the closest one. She obeyed, pelting them all with shards of ice. They flinched from her attack, but not as much as they did upon having heard the echoing gunshot. They looked to the side, gazing in horror at their fallen pack member. His nose was split open, a thick funnel cutting through to the other side of his skull. Elise jumped from the thunderous sound. Without giving them the chance to regain their senses, he shot another, shattering the shoulder blade and blowing through the chest cavity. He fell just as quickly as the other. Meanwhile, Elise had released an ice beam on a mightyena, freezing its feet into the ground. He barely had time to raise his weapon when he realized a mightyena lunging at him. Panicking, he shot twice. He missed altogether once, but hit it center mass the second time. He shoved it aside as it fell into him, finishing off his third. Elise was firing off as many ice shards as she could manage, keeping the aggressors somewhat at bay.

Then things took a turn for the worse. Before he could turn around, he was slammed from behind and sent straight to the ground. He rolled over and shot it straight through the jaw, penetrating through the roof of the mightyena's mouth. He was soon tackled by a fifth, and experienced what was likely the most excruciating pain of his life. The pokémon sank its large, sharp fangs into his left arm, pinning his other down with its clawed paw, drawing blood. "Fuck!" he yelled in pain. It had firmly locked its jaws inside of his flesh, carving through the muscle and close to the bone. Behind it, he could see Elise subdued, stumbling back, her hind leg hurt. The remaining two mightyenas were near her. One rammed into her harshly, sending her to the ground. Michael tilted his pinned hand towards it to get a shot. The other - the leader - made his way around her. He was nearly out of time. Hoping for the best, he took the shot. The one in front of her fell on its stomach - he had hit it in the spine, paralyzing it for good, likely to die soon. The mightyena on top of him batted the revolver aside and out of his reach, sinking its teeth even deeper, and shaking roughly back and forth. Tears welled up in his eyes from the sharp, throbbing pain in his arm. The sight of his blood seeping out, all over the pokémon's teeth and muzzle, sickened him, but not nearly as much as what he saw twenty feet away. The lead mightyena was forcibly mounting Elise, who was yipping in protest. His hardened member drew close to her hips. _NO!_ His adrenaline surged more than it had ever done so before.

Desperate to do _something_ , he kicked the one on him harshly in the gut, causing it to yelp, though still through jaws clenched around his arm. Its hold on his right arm released, and his hand darted out, grabbing the duffel bag, finding just what he needed. Swinging as hard as he could, he met almost no resistance as the blade went clean through the mighyena's neck and out the other side. He lunged up as quickly as he could, seeing the erected member nearly make contact with her nether region. Having no time, he did the only thing he could think of to stop the rape from occurring. He threw the blade.

He watched as it sailed through the air, rotating quickly, hoping that it met its mark. His prayers were answered as it contacted the lead mightyena's side and sunk in to the hilt, causing it to howl out in pain and fall back. He dashed up to the pokémon and grabbed the handle of the dagger. Instead of pulling it straight out, he pulled downwards, effectively ripping open its abdominal cavity and spilling its guts below it. With the blade free once more, he stabbed it in between the ribs, killing the already dying canine.

He fell to the ground, sick to his stomach from the stench of the entrails and the pain in his arm. Speaking of his arm… Using his dagger, he pried the clenched jaws open, removing the still-stuck head of the mightyena that had failed in keeping him down. He quickly glanced at the damage. The teeth marks were perfectly imprinted in his arm, four on the left side, three on the right due to its placement on his wrist.

"Are…you…alright?" he gasped. He snatched up one of their towels, wrapped his arm tightly, and retrieved his revolver.

"I'm… fine," she said, still trembling. "M-my leg."

"Don't worry; I've got you," he replied. He took up the duffel bag, wanting nothing to do with swimming at the moment, and scooped her up in both arms. Though she was large, and it was painful to his throbbing arm, she was stable, and he could take the weight. _Damn this would be a lot easier if I had her ball with me._

"Michael... your arm."

"I'll be okay girl."

"But… there's so much blood..." The towel had already adopted a crimson coloration all throughout.

"I'll be okay," he repeated, though unsure himself. Those were the longest miles he had ever travelled in his life. He increasingly had to fight from passing out, as the blood steadily dripped down from his arm, and even dampened the fur of the glaceon he was holding.

"Michael," she cried. "You're hurt... and I did it..."

"Don't you dare say that," he replied as the base came within view. "I got myself hurt. You did not."

"But if I didn't want to go out there in the first place…"

"There's no way you could've predicted something like that happening. It's not your fault. And besides - I put _myself_ in danger."

"But—."

"I don't want to hear any more about his, alright?" His vision blurred, but he rounded the corner of the building. "Alright?" he asked again.

"O…okay…" One of the two guard metagrosses noticed him, sounding out a shrill alarm. He fell to his knees, having to set her down gently to the side to avoid collapsing on her.

 **. . . . .**

The next scenes flashed by, quite literally, in the blink of an eye. He was passed out most of the time, but regained consciousness just long enough to witness the surrounding events - being rushed in on a stretcher, Elise being carried in by another soldier behind him, Veronica having to be restrained outside the medical room. Grace came in and placed an IV in his right arm, and stood over his torn left, her eyes glowing. Before he knew it, he was out again.

 **. . . . .**

He woke up with a start, rapidly sitting up in the hospital bed. The tell-tale beeping of the heart monitor to his right served to remind him of why he was there in the first place. Looking at his left arm, he saw it neatly wrapped in bandages. The opening of the door caused him to divert his attention. "Glad to see you awake," Grace said.

"How long was I out?"

"Let's see… about ten days."

"What?!"

"Kidding, kidding," she laughed. "But seriously, you were out for some time. It's nearly 7:00, so that makes six hours.

"Great," he replied sarcastically. Suddenly he remembered something. "Oh shit, how is Elise?"

"She's fine - a little bit of a sprain. Nothing close to as serious as your injury."

"That's a relief," he replied. "Am I going to be okay?"

"You're already okay," she said. "Go on and take a look." With his other hand, he ripped part of it, unwrapping the rest. His arm looked as though nothing had happened.

"TMA?"

"Mhm. Did it myself. You ought to be more careful," she chastised.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said.

"I mean it," she said, stepping in front of him. "Your extensors were nearly shredded. It took me the better part of four hours to fix you up."

"And as I said before," he returned, "I will keep that in mind. Any concern for infection?"

"I'm not sure. Just to be safe, I want you to take these," she said, handing him a small bottle of pills. "One each morning, one at night - just to be on the safe side." He stood up, taking the taped IV out of his arm. Though he would never admit it to anyone, he absolutely dreaded needles. And wasn't much fonder of those small finger-pricks. "Other than that, you're good to go. Your stuff is in the drawer," she said, motioning to the stand beside the heart monitor. He retrieved it and hoisted the bag over his shoulder.

"Alright, thanks." He opened the door and was able to make a single, uninterrupted step outside. Veronica snatched him up like a rag doll, hugging him tightly.

"Shit," he gasped. She loosened her grasp.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm just so happy that you're alright." The commotion attracted the others, including a limping glaceon with a cast, as well as the Commander.

"Mind tellin' me how you just about booked yourself an overnight stay in the medical bay?" For the next few minutes, he recounted the event to him. Elise made sure to throw in the fact that he carried her the entire way back, _with_ an injured arm. "I've got to say, son, I'm impressed. Taking on a small pack with nothing but a revolver - that's some skill right there."

"Well I _did_ have help, y'know," he said, rubbing Elise's head. "If it wouldn't have been for her, I probably would've been swarmed."

"So I'm assuming that you're fit for duty, then?"

"Completely."

"Good - I can't afford not to have you on this upcoming mission."

That night, he stood over the bathtub, after bathing Elise, and scrubbed his dagger with steel wool. The dried blood was proving quite difficult to remove, but he was doing it slowly and surely. "Thank you," she said. He set his chore aside for the moment, turning to face her. "You really saved me back there."

"Elise, I would never let them hurt you, _especially_ like that."

"You put your life on the line for me," she sniffed.

"What kind of a trainer would I be if I didn't? No matter what, I will fight to protect you girls - always remember that." Wordless, she embraced him in a feral hug and kissed him deeply on the cheek. He wrapped his arms around her. He lost count of how long they held each other, but he estimated it to be around five minutes.

"I love you so much," she whispered to him.

"I love you to, Elise." He didn't know why, but somehow, this embrace felt different from their past ones.

 **. . . . .**

The next day, the six Reapers sat at a round table in the cafeteria, chatting amongst each other before they would have to go to the debriefing room.

"Hey, did you guys hear about the evolution stone crisis?" John asked. "Seems like it's gonna suck like hell for trainers. Or at least, anyone seriously into it."

"Yeah," Michael stated. "Saw it on the news the other day."

"Have you seen what the things are going for online? It's bullshit." Alex said.

"It's supply and demand," Michael countered. "Supply is low, but demand is as high as ever. It's fair marketing."

"You aren't disappointed about it?" John asked.

"Not at all - I'm selling, after all. I'll benefit majorly from the situation." This caught their attention.

"Wait just a second," Thomas said. "You mean to tell me that you actually _have_ one?"

"Four," Michael corrected. "Water, fire, thunder, and a piece of moss rock, though that one probably won't be worth as much."

"Shit dude, you've stumbled across some luck. What are they selling for?"

"Somewhere north of Ᵽ25,000 each for the the elementals, and probably Ᵽ2,000-3,000 for the shard of moss rock. Bought them years ago when they weren't quite so expensive."

"Lucky bastard," Thomas said. He looked at his tactical watch, got up and took his tray. "Time to go fellas. No doubt the Commander will be expecting us in a few."

 **. . . . .**

He had an average person's physique, being an even six feet tall and having a light brown crew cut. "Boys, this is Nathaniel Shepherd, colonel of the CIC around these parts. His forces will provide essential backup to many of your missions."

"Nice to see you've got yourself a new team Wes," he commented. "Hopefully you won't ride these kids into the dirt."

"He's kidding," Wesley said, though with a slight chuckle. "Nate and I go way back. We were both in the first squad."

"Really? You were a Reaper too?" asked Michael.

"Yep, back before any of you were born."

"What caused you to join up with the Kanto military?" asked Alex.

"The right person," he replied, "but perhaps we'll talk about that another time. Right now, though, we have other matters to discuss. For starters, what do y'all know about the CIC?"

"You guys are a counterterrorism organization, right?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah, but that's just part of it. We run spec ops, reconnaissance, and infiltrations - much like you guys. On the other hand, the six of you are better trained than most CIC personnel. But where you all have quality, we have quantity."

"That's why the two units work so well together," Wesley commented.

"So when can we expect to collaborate?" Alex asked.

"If I'm not mistaken, on your next mission." He turned to Wesley. "Cinnabar is y'all's next stop, right?"

"Yep," he said, giving him a short, conformational nod.

"Well then, you can expect us there. We'll be ready gettin' rid of the bodies, and to storm the building in the case that y'all fuck everything up." _Glad to see he's so confident in us…_ "But I'm sure you boys will be just fine."

 **. . . . .**

"Do you have to go for so long?" Charlotte asked, clearly disappointed. "I mean, three _days_?"

"You know I do," he replied, holding her paw gently. He kissed it, trying to reassure her, but somehow succeeded in making her blush.

"Will it be dangerous?" she asked.

"It always is."

"More so than usual?" she added.

"To tell you the truth, yeah - it will be. We've never done anything like this before. We're going straight into the lair of the beast. But y'know what? I think everything's gonna be just fine." She looked up at him through tearful eyes.

"How can you be so sure?" she sniffed. "I mean, do you think that we aren't terrified? Every day you go out there, we're scared - wondering if the next time we see you it'll be in a body bag!" By now, the tears were streaming, and she couldn't control it. He knelt down and hugged her, giving her as much comfort as he could. He gave her a small peck on the tip of her nose.

"I get worried too, Char - worried that each time may be the last time I see you all. I'm far from invincible - as you just saw. But whenever I feel uneasy or nervous out there, I think of you all; think about how much I want to return to the four of you. That alone gives me a reason to fight." She was sobbing into his shirt.

"Please," she said between sobs. "Please promise me that you'll be okay."

"You know I will."

 **. . . . .**

"Piece of fucking shit!" Alex yelled, throwing the tent pole to the ground, hearing it snap out of structure, collapsing the tent that he almost had _partially_ up.

"Alex, language," Michael joked.

"Hey," Alex pointed to him. "Fuck off."

"What did I do?" Michael asked, raising his hands.

"How about you _help_ instead of standing there being useless?"

"I've already set mine up," he said, pointing to his expertly erected tent.

"Yeah, because you've been doing it for years, Ranger Rick. Now give me a hand." Laughing on the inside, Michael assisted him, and before long, had the tent set up perfectly.

"See Alex? It isn't that difficult."

"Shut the hell up."

They were setting up base camp on a nearby island, though it was still well out of sight of Cinnabar. The next morning they were to travel to the main island and set up for the night's mission. There were nearly two hundred members of the CIC accompanying them - Nate really wasn't kidding when he said they'd provide support.

 **. . . . .**

Thomas and Samuel took their positions on top of the buildings - both on the roofs of a nearby apartment complex. The other four, with night vision on, had snuck into the premises by cutting the fence in the back corner. No guards or cameras were on the outside, as such security measures wouldn't support the idea of abandonment.

"Slip in the windows," Wesley advised. Michael and Alex, going left, separated from John and Kevin, each taking one side of the building. Michael peaked up into the dark building, and seeing no one straight ahead of him, hoisted himself in… right in front of a patrolling enemy. Before he could utter a sound, Michael withdrew his suppressed USP and shot him in the head.

"Higgs, that was way too fucking close," Wesley said. "Are you trying to fuck up this mission?"

"All that matters is I got him," Michael said, grabbing the dead man's body and forcing him out the window, nearly hitting Alex. "And no, it is not within my intentions to sabotage the mission." He held out a hand for Alex, pulling him up through the glassless window. They hid between the pillars to minimize their visibility, looking around the first floor. It was almost exactly as they had expected, having a long corridor in front of them, which opened out and lead to a flight of stairs straight ahead. A wall lay to their right, preventing them from being able to view the other side of the mansion. They kept to the wall, up until they needed to make a break for the stairs. Alex peaked around the corner, and held his hand up in a halting signal. A flashlight beam approached, controlled by a fully armed guard who was intending to pass by towards the left entrance. Not giving him the chance, Michael shot him in the side of the head as he passed by, and tossed him out the window much like he had the first. However, the body of the first enemy was gone.

"Y'know, the point of this is to avoid as much confrontation as possible…"

"And I am, Commander - by eliminating the threat _now_ , I can ensure that we don't have to confront him _later_." He could almost sense Kevin stifling a laugh.

"Smartass." Good to go, they crept towards the stairs. Taking an experimental step, he found, thankfully, that it didn't really creak. Maybe it was due to the nature of their specially-designed boots, but it was something that they were grateful for all the same. They made their way up the steps, looking expectantly towards the top doorway for someone to come through. After a moment of nothing happening, they went through. Incoming chatter alerted them to the approaching guards.

"I've got the left, you get right," Michael said. They hid behind the piles of debris scattered about, crouched and aiming with their pistols. Once the two emerged, they dropped both of them. They lunged forth and caught the two before they could hit the ground and make a noise.

"At this rate, you two are gonna clear out the building."

"Fine by me," Alex stated. The second story was full of slim hallways, dividing the floor into dozens of rooms, some with metal shutters pulled down.

"This is definitely new equipment," Alex said. "They've been busy with the place."

"We've just entered the second basement," John said. "Think we've found how they're getting in unnoticed."

"A submarine bay," Wesley said. "And twenty feet below. We'll need to check around the premises."

"What's that?" Kevin asked. The two were silent for a moment, before speaking up again.

"Commander, are you seeing this?"

"Yeah… that can't be good."

"What is it?" Thomas asked.

"Team Plasma…" John said.

"Just what we needed, too," Wesley muttered. "Those assholes gave us so much trouble back when I was in the squad."

Michael and Alex continued along the backside of the building - the side that faced north - and neared the corner. Now within range, Thomas's position popped up on their radars.

"Hey, just received your location, Thomas," Michael said.

"Yeah, I see ya," he replied. "A guard's about to round the corner. I'd shoot him, but there's a camera."

"Alright, thanks." Michael braced himself, flattening against the wall. Alex kept watch behind them, lest they be caught by surprise. The light grew closer, its carrier nearly rounding the corner. He couldn't straight up shoot this one - he was right in front of one of the few fixed windows of the building. A bullet would surely break it and create noise. Instead, he knelt down, aiming upwards, and capped him as he rounded. "Here," he said, handing the body to Alex, "take this."

"The fuck am I supposed to do with it?"

"I dunno, just get rid of it." Michael peaked around, hugging the corner, while Alex dragged the body back through the hallway to an open window.

"Do you see the camera?" Alex asked, grunting.

"Yeah, west wall, facing our direction, but not quite. Get ready to use the jammer."

"On it." Alex pulled out the EMP jammer and fiddled with it a bit, slipping around and pointing it at the camera. "It's down - hurry!" They ran straight by the camera towards the end of the hallway.

"Anyone around this side?" Michael asked Samuel, who was positioned south of the building.

"Pair of guards in the middle. Not movin', though - and a camera at the other end, pointing southwest."

"Keep the jammer out." Michael holstered his pistol, switching to his UMP-45.

"Dude, you can't be serious."

"I'm completely serious," he said, flipping the safety off of his SMG. He flipped around the corner, taking aim at the guards quickly, and sprayed them both at their heads and necks, before dashing out to quickly dispose of the evidence. Alex disabled the camera, allowing Michael to safely throw them out of the window without being seen. The room right before the camera was open, and so to avoid circling back to where they started, they went through. A shorter hallway, this one had a set of stairs on the left side, bending northward to set it in line with the west-most side of the building. To their right, they could hear several conversations at once.

"Take it slow," Wesley said. "Wouldn't want to fuck up there." The duo kept to the left side, eagerly watching the doorway as they crept towards the end. The sheer noise level was enough to mask the presence of the Reapers, who slipped by quickly.

"There ain't shit on this floor," John said. "If there's anything to find, it's your way, guys. We're on our way back up."

"Alright. We're going up to the third floor now," Michael said. He and Alex went up, carefully aiming ahead. One was propped up against the rail at the top of the stairs. He soon fell, but not due to losing balance. Michael hoisted him out the window, and they continued.

The top floor looked vastly different from the previous. There was only a large, central room, surrounded by hallways on three of the four sides - all but the north. No entrance on this side, but there was a camera. "Alex."

"On it." After setting it on a temporary loop, they hid directly under it and hugged the wall. "Samuel," Alex asked, "what's it like around the corner?"

"Two guards, each side of the entrance." Michael pulled out his UMP-45, flipped around, and emptied the rest of the clip into both of them. The duo ran forth and got rid of the two bodies. Through the front entrance, they could catch a view of the inside, or at least, part of it. The room was full of computers, some on, some off, on several large desks. One of them displayed the camera feed in several gridded squares. No one was seated in front of it.

"You mean to tell me they weren't even paying attention to the cameras?" Alex said. "Wow, nice to see all that work was for nothing." To the right was the other entrance - the side one. They could hear voices to their left.

"Go 'round to the other door - you'll get a better view of the inside."

"How's it look over there, Thomas?"

"Good to go." They headed around, peaking inside. At the other end of the room was a large, round table, having ten seated. Thankfully, those seated were more concerned with their gambling than keeping the place secure. A large gun rack lay to the right of the table, while a pair of crates lay to the left. On top of one was an AGS-30 grenade launcher. They went prone, edging up to the nearest desk. Towards the back was a large shelf.

"There we are," Wesley said. "Alex, see if you can slip over there and download." Alex slowly but surely crawled over to the servers, having to hide around the other side. He slipped the extraction drive in quickly, taking cover behind the shelf itself. A climbing percentage appeared at the bottom of all of their displays. Around five minutes, and they could head out of there.

"Good, now get down and be quiet." Michael took his place under the desk, the camera monitor over him. Alex was back up against the wall, crouching behind the shelf. The only sounds present in the room were those of the enemies, throwing down cards and drinking.

"Alright," one of them said, getting up, "be right back; gotta take a piss." He took his half empty beer with him.

"Bring Dwight up on your way back." Four minutes left. He left, going out the front entrance and into the hallway. Michael got an idea.

"Commander, you think we could use the camera data?" he asked, motioning to the computer's system unit beside him.

"Now that you mention it… that could be really useful. We could run the footage and get info on who's been in and out." Michael silently unscrewed the side panel, fishing through the system's wires and components until he found the hard disk drive. With three minutes left, they would likely be out of there before anyone came to the computer, so he snapped it out, pocketing it, and placing the panel back over the system unit. Almost a minute later, the man who had left had returned with another.

"Got 'em," he said.

"Did you pick up the payment?" another asked.

"No," Dwight replied. "They wouldn't pay up."

"Really? Then we'll just have to pay 'em a visit. Put the little shits in their place."

"Agreed. Speaking of people being put in their place, where the hell are all the guards? Can't seem to see anyone on patrol. You know what the boss said."

"They should be out there. Go check the schedules. See who's on duty." Dwight turned and was about to leave. With only a minute left, their worst fears came true - gunfire.

"What the hell?!" The men sprung up, ready to take arms and defend their base. Both Michael and Alex peaked around their cover with their UMPs, spraying them all down, aiming at head level.

"Shit!" Kevin yelled. "They found us!"

"What the fuck happened?" Michael asked.

"Kevin failed to kill a guard," Wesley said. "He managed to squeeze off a few shots. Stay alert!"

"Just what we needed," Alex muttered. The stampeding through the halls could be heard throughout the building.

"That place is swarming!" Wesley said. "Michael and Alex, get ready for a fight!" The download was almost finished, with twenty seconds left, when they started coming. Bodies could be heard falling in hallway near the front entrance. "Keep it up, you two!" Wesley said. Samuel and Thomas were doing their part to trim down the numbers. Once the first group had entered into the room, the download had been completed, the driver taken, and desks flipped for cover. The two inside sprayed them down, felling them at the doorways.

Within a moment, the entire premises had been thrust into chaos. "CIC is sending backup! Everyone hold your positions for a few more minutes!" Just as he had said, CIC members were storming the premises, engaged in firefights with enemies in the windows and on the ground.

"Shit! They're coming in to y'all's left!" Thomas said.

"Great, so there's stairs there too?" Michael shot an incoming enemy as he rounded, making him collapse on the spot. "We're gonna have to use what's here," Michael said. "I'm all out!" He rushed to the gun rack, snatching up an M249 and the large ammo belt that went with it. He tossed Alex two AK-47s. He set it on the edge of the flipped desk in order to steady the large machine gun better.

"Comin' on both sides!"

"Alex, you get the front!" With his setup, Michael had a perfect shot at anyone who dared to peak around the side entrance. If an enemy charged in, they'd get mowed down. If they stood outside the doorway and tried to shoot around the corner, they'd get sniped. The system worked until they, quite literally, got swarmed.

"Up front!" Samuel yelled. Michael took the LMG, stood up, and fired at the horde of enemies. Not stopping until the belt was depleted, he piled enemies on top of each other.

"We're cornered!" John said. "Almost out, and—." He cut himself off, yelling in pain. A loud _thwack_ sounded; he said no more.

"John!" Wesley yelled.

"Oh fuck!" Kevin cried. "He's hit! John's hit _real_ bad."

"Bide your time! They're on their way in!"

"We don't _have_ time!" Kevin yelled. "I'm down to his ammo!"

"Alex, we need to get down there _right now_! We can't wait on the CIC to show up."

"In case you haven't noticed, we aren't too well off either." True, they had used up just about all of the reserved weapons in the gun rack. All they had left was a nearly-empty AK and their pistols. Michael scanned the room, looking for a way out of all of this, and paused. There was _one_ way… if it would work. He ran to the crates and picked up the grenade launcher. It was heavy; it was originally made to put on top of vehicles, but light enough for a man to carry and use effectively. He opened the crate, seeing a variety of explosives, and several clusters of grenades. _There's gotta be ammo around here somewhere… there!_ He fished out the grenades - a belt of thirty, and clipped them into place.

"Do you even know how to use that thing?" Alex asked.

"We'll find out - and besides, not like we've got much of an option." Michael also grabbed two clusters of grenades, tossing them to Alex, and an incendiary grenade. "Alex, drop those behind us every few seconds."

"What the hell do you have in mind?"

"Bustin' out of here - that's what." Pulling the pin, he tossed the incendiary around the corner of the front entrance.

"Get back!" a voice yelled. Hearing screams of pain, and seeing the illumination caused by the spread of the flames, Michael assumed that he had hit his targets.

"Come on!" Michael darted through the side entrance. At the end of the hallway, he could see the stairs, as well as a small group of incoming enemies. Hoping that it would work, he double-tapped the trigger. Two grenades impacted two different enemies directly. The explosions shredded them apart before any of them could fire a single shot. Michael didn't even stop.

"Shit! I'm out!" Kevin yelled. "They're coming. I don't think… we're making it out of this one, guys." Michael blew through another enemy, shattering the nearby window pane and cracking the old hardwood floor. The proximity display showed that John and Kevin where directly in front of them, or at least in two-dimensional coordinates. In reality, the two were on different floors. Michael shot a pair that had rounded the corner, shooting at him. A bullet nicked his arm, not penetrating, but still drawing a thin line of blood. He could hear the yelling and stampeding downstairs, so, in haste, he did the only thing he could think of - he shot the floor in front of him. With seven shots, the old structure gave way, leaving a large, gaping hole in the floor. The scene lay perfectly situated in front of him: Kevin holding his blood-soaked dagger and standing in front of John's unconscious body, over a dozen enemies outside the doorway to the room, one hauling back to throw a grenade in there. He never gave them the chance.

Their last sights must have been the flames of the explosions, their last sounds the deafening concussion waves. He jumped down, the belt almost empty. An enemy staggered up to him, his right arm messily blown off, ears bleeding. He slammed the heavy weapon into his face, making him drop on the spot and move no more. He ran up to his two vulnerable comrades. Everyone seemed speechless at what they had seen. "No time to waste," Michael said. "We gotta get him the hell outta here!" He handed the launcher to Kevin, who took it, still incredulous at the previous events. Micheal grabbed John and hoisted him over his shoulder, withdrawing his USP-45 as his only available weapon. "You two cover me!" The three of them made a dash around the corner and towards the front entrance. Kevin shot a few grenades ahead of him to clear the path of enemies. As they neared the entrance, a few individuals, dressed differently and armed with P-90 submachine guns, stopped them. Michael raised a pistol to the head of one of them.

"Woah woah woah, we're on your side!"

"What?" Michael asked in an unconvinced tone.

"CIC close-quarters specialist unit. We're here to provide backup!"

"Alright," Michael said, lowering the handgun. "C'mon, guys - we need to get John to the medic, _now_!" They ran forth, through the wreckage of the recently destroyed gate.

"We're coming in for a landing at you," Wesley said. The lights of the Chinook permeated the night sky. The inhabitants of the island were watching the war zone before them with great interest and horror. As soon as it landed, they rushed in. Grace and Sebastian were in front of one of the outstretched cots, ready.

 **. . . . .**

His visor had been cracked. That, as well as a broken nose, made it evident that he had been hit hard, likely with the butt of a rifle. Three bullets had to be extracted from him. The first had been no big deal; going at an awkward angle, it had been caught slightly inside the suit, boring itself into the side of his left leg a quarter of an inch. The second, above the first, had been similar, entering above his knee, stuck between the tendons and his femur. The third, however, had given reason to their concern. It was inside his abdominal cavity, stuck between his intestines. "He's lucky that his suit absorbed most of the impact," Sebastian said, motioning to the crater in the kevlar fabric. "Had it not, the bullet would've gone through to his kidney. He would have bled out before you got him here."

"And they're both lucky that help arrived in the first place," Wesley said. "I… I don't think I've ever seen anything like that, even in all my years."

"…Thank you, Michael," Kevin mumbled. "Had I not been so careless, we wouldn't have been in that situation to begin with. Thanks for getting us outta it."

"It was luck," he responded. "Everything lined up just right. But anytime." The five of them had been so restless, eagerly watching the operation on their comrade, that they had not sat down, nor had removed their gear. Now that everything was okay, they proceeded in doing so. First, though, Michael and Alex walked up to Wesley.

"Here's the drive," Alex said, handing the extraction drive to the Commander, before walking back to the back of the plane, where they store their suits.

"And here's the camera footage," Michael said, slipping the hard disk out of his side pocket. Before he could turn around, though, Wesley stopped him.

"One more thing, Higgs, if you would."

"Yes?"

"I'd like to see your mask." _What? Why?_ Confused but compliant, Michael removed his mask and gave it to the Commander. His face had been drenched with sweat, though it had significantly dried up. "Thank you. That was one hell of a stunt you pulled back there."

"Just doing what you all trained me to do," he replied.

"Maybe. But it looked impossible. This footage will need to be reviewed."

 **. . . . .**

Finally, they landed back at base. Grace sealed up the shallow wound that Michael had on his arm. _You aren't invincible,_ Veronica's words echoed through his mind. Of course, it had been something that he'd known, but having a physical reminder was something else. A few inches over and the bullet could've hit his chest. "You boys sit this week out. You deserve some rest after all that." As he went back to his quarters, sleep was the only thing on Micael's mind. Well, that, and a warm shower. "Michael's home!" Elise shrieked, running up to him. It wasn't long before the others were there too.

"Oh thank Arceus," Layla moaned, hugging him.

"Told ya I'd be okay," he said, ruffling her hair.

He remembered little of what happened after that. He got out the shower, barely conscious, dried himself off and brushed his teeth, and slipped on a pair of briefs. The next thing he knew, he was under Veronica's wing, in the bed. Later, he would find out that he had passed out on the bathroom floor. "Go back to sleep," Veronica said as he lazily shuffled, confused as to what had happened and how he had gotten there. "You need it."

 **. . . . .**

He picked himself off of the ground for what must've been the tenth time. Layla had won again. "You really don't give up, do you?" she asked.

"No, no I don't," he grunted. "Before I leave this room, I _will_ beat you."

"Fat chance," she laughed. "But I welcome you to try." The two squared up again, taking their stances. He watched every movement that she made. Whenever she was about to attack, he noticed, her ear twitched ever so slightly. Seeing the cue, he prepared to defend himself.

Layla threw a hook at his face, but he had been expecting such a move. He blocked it with his right arm, returning a strike of his own towards her right side, which was now unguarded. She lurched forth, but before he could attempt any further attacks, she gave him a powerful kick to the chest, making him stumble back to the ropes. He sprung off of the ropes, using them to propel himself forward, and ran towards her once more. He was stopped with a harsh jab to the ribs, stopping him in his tracks, and taking a great deal of air out of his lungs. Michael got his opportunity, though, when she attempted another kick, this one to his side.

Instead of getting hit like he had previously, he grabbed her leg. While he had her temporarily unbalanced, he swept her other from underneath her, making her fall to the ground. Before she could move, he jumped on top of her, pinning her down. "Got you now!" he said, beaming that he finally defeated her.

"You better get off of me like this. People might think that we're engaged in other activities." That definitely made him get up.

"Layla…" She giggled in response.

"I was only teasing you. Don't take it so seriously."

 **. . . . .**

"I don't understand _why_ someone would do this to themselves," Charlotte said.

A knock sounded at the door. "Come in," Michael said, not getting up from the table. John walked in, having been released from the medical center. He looked exhausted, but was walking without any trouble. "Hey, good to see you up and about again."

"Yeah. That TMA shit really takes a toll on ya."

"It is pretty rough on the body," Michael admitted, "but better than waiting for everything to naturally heal." He set his papers aside, but John caught a glimpse at them.

"What the hell is that?"

"My old biochem notes. Looking over them a bit to keep my memory fresh." John looked like he was trying to stifle a laugh.

"You're kinda a nerd, y'know that?"

"He really is," Charlotte joked, earning a playful glare from her trainer.

"I've been told that before, yes. What's up?"

"Just wanted to come and thank you for everything yesterday." He felt, rather than saw, Charlotte perk up.

"Really? What happened?" Michael simply shrugged.

"Didn't really think it was that big of a deal. I'm sure the time'll come when someone will save my ass."

"Maybe," John said, "Anyways, also came to tell you that Samuel wanted to talk to you." That surely caught him by surprise.

"Samuel? Wanting to talk? Bullshit."

"That's what I thought. But seriously, though, he mentioned it."

"Alright," he sighed. "When did he want to see me?"

"Today for lunch."

 **. . . . .**

That definitely started out as the most awkward meal he had ever had. Charlotte accompanied him, as it was her "day." Their lunch started out in complete silence, the only noises being that of their silverware scraping against the plates. Finally, after thirty minutes - well after everyone had finished eating - Michael was unable to take it any longer, and broke the silence. "Alright, is something wrong?"

"What?"

"You called me over to talk, yet you're completely silent…"

"It's just… hard finding the right words," he replied.

"You're talking like this is a formal meeting or something."

"It could be considered that." _Well, maybe so - considering that you never freaking speak!_

"Go on and lay it on me."

"A… alright," he stammered. "I guess the only way to put it is that I need a favor." _Woah, he's probably taking a blow to his pride…_

"A favor?" Michael questioned. Charlotte looked puzzled as well. "What kind of a favor?"

"I want to finance something of yours…"

"Finance?" he asked. "The hell are you talking about?"

"The fire stone." _Oh, that's right - Nicole can evolve into a ninetales…_

"For Nicole, right?" Samuel nodded.

"I've wanted to get her something special ever since we partnered up, and I thought that a fire stone would be a great idea. She's always talking about how beautiful ninetales are, and how she can't wait to evolve into one. Problem is… those stones cost a fucking fortune."

"Yeah," Michael said. "The supply's dropped like crazy since the shortage."

"And you even said so yourself - the prices are only gonna get worse and worse. So I wanted to buy yours from you. I won't be able to pay for all of it at once, so that's why I was looking into a financing deal with you."

"I see." Michael finished off his tea, setting the empty glass to the side.

"So would you consider it?" Samuel asked.

"No," Michael said. Charlotte looked at him confusedly, but he continued. "I'm not going to sell you the stone."

"You won't?"

"No," he repeated, "I'm not about to profit off of you."

"What do you mean?"

"I won't sell it to you, but I'll give it to you." For a moment, Samuel said nothing, likely trying to process what had just been said.

"Why?"

"Because, you could use it. I have no use for it."

"You could make a lot of money from it."

"Maybe," Michael admitted. "But the fact stands that you could use it; I can't. I'm not going to use that and capitalize upon the current situation."

"But why?" he repeated.

"Well, you're my friend, that's why."

"…You know nothing _about_ me," Samuel said.

"And yet we completely trust each other with our lives - weird, isn't it? Look, all of us would like for you to open up a bit more, but you do that on your own time. Just know that whenever you're ready to talk, I'm here to listen." He stood up, taking his and Charlotte's trays over to the counter, before coming back to the table. "Follow me back - the stone's at my place."

Minutes later, he stood outside his door, fire stone in hand. "Don't even let her get _near_ the thing until she's ready," Michael advised. "Believe me, it's instant."

"I'll keep that in mind," Samuel said. "I can't thank you enough for this…"

"You don't need to thank me at all. Just treat her well, okay?"

"Alright." Samuel turned to walk away, heading to his quarters, but stopped. "Do you really wanna know?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to know? About my past?" Samuel asked.

"Of course, but only if you're comfortable talking about it."

"Come by my place tomorrow night. Then we'll talk."

 **. . . . .**

The fire stone lay on the top of the mantle, well out of Nicole's reach. No accidents. They sat on opposite ends of the couch, the vulpix curled up on his lap, attentive to their conversation. "Not really sure how to start all this…"

"Take your time." Samuel nodded, still clearly unsure of how to proceed.

"Let's see… I guess it would help to know a bit of my background, wouldn't it?"

"That'd probably make things clearer."

"Yeah, I guess so," he said, looking down at Nicole, who gave him a nod.

"Go on, Sammy - if you tell others, you won't _have_ to keep it all bottled up."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said. He collected his thoughts, looked at her, then Michael, and began his recollections. "I grew up under a collapsing roof with three siblings. One of those 'untouchable' corners of Azalea, y'know? Shitty community - always voted for those politicians that promised more welfare benefits. Whenever they won, all that money went straight to their pockets."

"That's pretty much always how it works," Michael said. "Trust me, them and Kalosian politicians are one and the same. Only difference is that they give out money that the country doesn't have, or whatever they could steal from the rich. Convey themselves as the 'modern day Robin Hoods,' but they're nothing more than crooks. Steal from the rich to give to themselves."

"Exactly. We hardly ever saw mom, because she had to work two or three jobs at any given time. Can safely say we all wished that we saw dad a whole lot less."

"Don't tell me…"

"Real piece of shit. And pious - Arceus he was pious as hell. Put on the whole Sunday vest and talked the talk for one damn day out of the week. In reality, he was nothing but a worthless drunk. During his worst episodes, he'd become abusive. No one wanted to be around at that time, even if it meant sleeping outside of the house."

"Special place in hell for any man that beats his wife and kids," Michael said.

"I'd say so. I remember this one time, he pulled in to the driveway, if you could even call it that, and somehow or another Hailey managed to put a scratch of his car. Children were wearing hand-me-downs, all malnourished, but he was gonna have that fucking convertible. It was barely visible, too. He held her down and broke her arm for that."

"Son of a bitch," Michael muttered.

"Then one day, he did both the best and worst thing for our family."

"What would that be?"

"Got drunk one day; wrapped his car around a tree off the highway going eighty. Only mom went to his funeral," he said.

"Gee, I wonder why."

"Well, with him outta the way, we didn't have to worry about bruises or broken bones, but his death definitely brought new problems. Even with mom working herself to death, food was hard to put on the table." Samuel was running his fingers through Nicole's fur, but her eyes shone with sadness at his backstory. Michael didn't know what to say; he couldn't empathize with any of this. All of his upbringing had been under more privileged standards.

"So what happened at that point?" Michael finally asked.

"Mom sold a whole bunch of shit to keep us alive for a few more weeks. The first to go were the wedding bands. I was able to convince her to buy a used .30-06 rifle. I was gonna try and make sure we didn't starve."

"So I'm guessing hunting is where your accuracy can from."

"Money was scarce - couldn't afford to miss much. A box of bullets had to last for months."

"Please tell me you didn't hunt any pokémon…"

"Hell no - only regular animals. Mostly deer. Would never have done something like that," he replied.

"Thank Arceus," Nicole said, looking up at him.

"No," he said, ruffling her hair. "I'm a lot of things, but a murderer ain't one of them."

"Pretty good at it, though, right?"

"Kept us from starving. Or at least until Mom died. After that…" he paused for a moment. "One of my two younger brothers killed himself, and the other two had to go live with our aunt. By that point, I was already seventeen, so I joined the armed forces. They'd take care of someone that practically flunked out of school. I'd already been through hell, and I knew my way around a rifle. After two years in the army, I moved up north to join the Reapers. That's how I got here." For a moment, Michael tried to take it all in. No wonder Samuel kept so much to himself - he had had an incredibly rough past.

"Look man, I'm not going to pretend to understand what you went through - I can't. But I'm sorry you had to go through all that."

"In a way, I'm not," he sighed. "It made me who I am." He looked down at the vulpix in his lap.

"And I wouldn't trade that for anything," Nicole said, rubbing up against him.

 **. . . . .**

Michael walked into Wesley's office, closing the door behind him. "You wanted to see me?" he asked, turning around. Nathaniel was also there, seated on the other side of the desk.

"Yes, sit down." Michael took a seat, curious as to why he was called into there at 8:00 at night. "Your performance last week was unlike anything I've ever seen before," Nate said.

"I'm guessing you went over the footage then," Michael stated.

"Yep, me and my boss." _His boss?_

"I probably should have told you, son," Wesley said, "I passed the film around to a few people. Hope you don't mind."

"…No, I don't. Just didn't know that it would've been this big of a deal."

"Well it is," Nate commented. "The only person I answer to is the founder of the CIC himself."

"What?"

"It's true. Your capabilities have piqued his interests," Wesley said. "That's what this is about. Tomorrow, I'd like for you to meet him. He may have need for your skills in an upcoming mission."

"My skills? What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure I understand your confusion," Wesley asked, puzzled.

"I mean, what makes 'my skills' so different from the others? We all have the same training, and we're all equally competent." Nate looked aside to Wesley and just shook his head.

"Honestly? Yeah, each and every one of you is capable of doing pretty much the same things. But being capable of something and actually doing it in the field are two completely different things."

"At that moment," Wesley added, "I was fully expecting to bury two of my Reapers."

"I just did what I was trained to do."

"You did more than that. That's why I think you should meet with him."

"So what will you do?" asked Nate. He thought it over to himself. It would only be fair, he decided, to meet with the guy. He had taken an interest in him, so it would be rude to ignore his respect.

"Alright, I'll meet with him. What time do I leave?"

"Six in the morning." _Shit._

 **. . . . .**

He lazily flipped through the channels, Elise curled up against him. Ever since she had almost been raped, she had kept to his side as much as possible. He absentmindedly rubbed her neck. She licked his cheek, peaking up to obstruct his view. "Hey," he teased, "I was watching that."

"C'mon, go to sleep. This won't help you get up early tomorrow."

"Alright," he relented, switching off the television. She hugged him tightly, nuzzling his face. She stopped when her muzzle had briefly brushed against his mouth, then refrained from the action anymore.

 **. . . . .**

The ride there was fairly uneventful, an occasional joke or two from Nathaniel. His shock came, however, when they landed four miles north of the Indigo Plateau. Stepping out, their position near the edge of a mountainside cliff, he could still easily see the League building. The trainers that had crushed them all those years ago… "C'mon, this way." Michael turned his back to the League, following Nate to the opening in the side of the stony wall. Much like the Johto northern army base, only much smaller.

"Definitely see the Johtonian influence here," Michael commented.

"We had a say in where the CIC set up shop," Nate replied. "Mountains are secure; hard to bomb, and even harder to invade." They walked through, took a left, and boarded an elevator at the end of the hall. With seven stories below, Nate hit the button towards the very bottom. "Alright, I do need to give you a… _heads up_ about the boss."

"Something wrong?"

"No," Nate said, "nothing's wrong with him, or at least _now._ He just isn't exactly who you'd expect. Listen, whatever your initial impressions are, please just hear him out. Give him a chance, alright?"

"O-okay." They stepped off the elevator, approaching a barred gate, which was opened upon their arrival. Another left, and they came up to a door, guarded by four CIC members, wearing their traditional attire of dark green berets and uniforms. One nodded, opening the door for him. Nate stopped in his tracks. "You aren't coming with me?"

"I see him every day. But he wanted to meet with you alone." Figuring that there was nothing else to do, he walked through the entrance, hearing the door close behind him.

He was standing to the side, looking at a large frame on the wall. His face had not appeared to have aged in years, showing only faint forehead lines. Stern gaze, thin brown eyebrows, and dark silver hair that refused to deteriorate or fall out. Michael guessed that he was around sixty. "Tell me," he said, not shifting his gaze, "do I look familiar to you?" Michael looked intensely at him, focusing on his features.

"Somehow… I feel like I've seen you before, but I don't remember how…"

"Maybe this will help," he said, motioning to the frame before taking a seat. Michael walked up to it; it only took a few seconds for him to realize who he was dealing with. The frame held a two-piece suit, dark jacket and white undershirt, complete with a red tie. The emblem of the crimson R over the left breast, though, is what really caught his attention. _W…what? This is…_ "Before you respond according to your initial judgement," he said, "I ask for you to hear me out." Michael nodded, making his way around the desk and taking a seat, unsure of what he had gotten himself in to.

"I already agreed to that," Michael said. "I just never thought…"

"Fair enough. I guess that's to be expected. Should I start from the beginning?"

"Please."

"Alright. As I'm sure you know, my name is Giovanni Rocket, founder and former leader of Team Rocket. It was I who set the foundations - the basic blueprints - for building an organized criminal syndicate in the developed world over the course of a few months. Galactic, Plasma, Flare - all of them, traceable right back to my work."

"Yeah, I know. And it really fucked up the regions when those guys were out and about."

"That it did," Giovanni admitted. "And would you believe, if I told you, that I started in petty crime?"

"That's where a lot of people start," Michael stated.

"Small-scale burglary, a couple instances of grand theft auto, and an assault - that was as far as I'd push it. Never got caught, either. I was always good at evading the cops. Looking back, I can't even explain why I went into crime. I came from a pretty well-to-do family. But anyways, things escalated after I pulled a particular job."

"Which was?"

"Kidnapping. Went to Cerulean; nabbed some collector's eevee. That was the greatest payday up until that point - getting that ransom. That's also when I found out that selling another's head was a _very_ profitable business. So I went 'clean' for a while; got my education - majored in international business. Used a few local connections and set up a small gang of sorts - ran a few drug operations and poaching. It took years, but we became very good at what we did. Pretty soon, we were swarming with new recruits. And why not? The chance to make it big, almost guaranteed not to get caught? Our organization was successful, and the cops were shit. There was no touching us. We had more guns than the army. Before I knew it, we were setting up shop in cities across the region."

"Yeah," Michael replied. "Rocket definitely hit the whole region hard."

"And that isn't even the worst of it," Giovanni said, lightly tapping the armrest of his chair. "No, what's worse is that Rocket - _my_ organization - could have been stopped way earlier than it was."

"It could have? Then why wasn't it?"

"I'd made deals with politicians. Right and left. Greedy fuckers are willing to leave you alone - no matter what you do - just so long as you slip a little something into their pockets."

"Then how did the organization get shut down?" Michael asked. "I mean, if the police couldn't do anything, and the politicians wouldn't, then how did Rocket come to an end? Was it the military?" Giovanni let out a light laugh.

"The military certainly fought us every chance they got, but they weren't the ones to make Rocket cave in - I was."

"You shut the organization down?" Michael asked amazed.

"Yes."

"After all you went through to build up Team Rocket, you just went and shut it down?"

"I closed the curtains. I had eventually seen what I had become, what I had made. And that wasn't shown to me by some politician, or soldier, or even an adult in general. I learned from a kid."

"A kid?"

"A young trainer, yes. He had interfered with our affairs on several occasions, getting to be a bigger and bigger thorn in my side as time progressed, and even posing a threat to the organization as a whole. Kicked me outta one of our own hideouts! I left him twice - didn't want to have a kid killed, but vowing that I wouldn't hesitate if he screwed with us again. So I left back to my gym."

"Gym?"

"I used to be a gym leader back in Viridian. Definitely provided great cover. Well, come and find out, that brat was taking the Indigo Challenge. Guess who showed up at my gym?"

"What are the odds…"

"The little shit of course came to pick another fight. As soon as he approached the battlefield, I began thinking of ways to make him disappear. I'd done it plenty of times to other people before, and trainers go missing all the time. But I couldn't do anything at the moment - couldn't go and blow my cover. Snatching up a kid in public visibility would surely get us caught. So I played it safe and did what a gym leader would usually do. I battled him."

"He won, didn't he? The battle?"

"Wasn't even close. I even had the type advantage over his starter, and he still plowed through my team. I swear, that boy really knew how to add insult to injury." Giovanni held a cracked pokéball in his hand, turning it and making it glint in the light. "But that's when everything was revealed to me. He didn't beat me because of his training - my pokémon were trained rigorously. No, he beat me because they actually cared for him; I didn't have that. Instead, I looked back at what my organization had given me. What my life of immorality had granted."

"What was that?"

"It felt great… up until that day. That's when it fully reflected on me what I had created; what I had turned myself into. In building myself up as a successful criminal overlord, I had suppressed any sense of decency. And you know what _that_ got me?" He turned around, tossing the ball to Michael, who caught it. The ball had been broken; its hinges were smashed, glued back together. "A team that hated me and feared me. They all left as soon as the chance came! Every fucking one of them! I had a son out of wedlock that wants nothing to do with me! Hell, he almost became the thing he hated most in this world - me! Tens of thousands of people living in terror; lives ruined by what I had let happen and what I had done! I had set aside any sort of morality for the entire duration of my reign. I stole, lied, and had people killed. I even had my scientists create a pokémon for me, _just_ so I could manipulate him to do my bidding. Don't worry, though, he destroyed the whole fucking lab. Lives in a fucking cave right now as a misanthrope - told me if I ever came for him again he'd kill me. That's what my life had amounted to. That kid, as much as I wanted to see him dead, helped me see that." For a moment, neither of them said anything. But there were still questions to be answered.

"What happened next?" Michael asked.

"Well, I disbanded the organization." He laughed coarsely. "You wouldn't _believe_ how much trouble that caused. Like stirring a beedrill nest."

"I'm sure."

"In the years after, several of my top admins tried everything in their power to get the Team up and running again. But they needed me, and they knew it. They wanted to entice me back, believing that I disbanded temporarily. Without me, the organization would fall - I had left a gap that they couldn't fill. Once I had finally explained to them - that Rocket was truly done for good - they were appalled. That's when the split happened."

"A split? In Team Rocket?"

"Yes. Most of the team was loyal to me, not the organization. After all, when you traced it up the line, _I_ was the one that gave them a place to feel accepted, food to eat, and lay their heads at night. The rest, though, they fed into the group you all are fighting now. They started trafficking. Terrorism."

"The people we've killed…"

"Many of them were in Team Rocket, yes. Those that disbanded asked me what was next. We had to have a real moral realignment, that's for sure. But I still had an issue at hand. I had created a beast. But y'know what? I learned from that kid that it's never too early to fight. Maybe, I reasoned, it was never too late to start fighting either."

"What did you do?"

"For the second time in my life, I broke the law in creating a militant, non-governmental organization - the CIC. You have no idea how painful that was - destroying what I had built. That Team... that was my _child_. I bled for it, put in all the hours for it, and nurtured it. At that point, those that dissented became even more violent. We took matters into our own hands. Enemies of our former allies, vigilantes in the eyes of the military... a three-way free-for-all. Complete chaos."

"Who was the first to give out?"

"The military. Kanto never had particularly strong armed forces. We never fought them, and thankfully, they barely attacked us. Once they understood our purpose - to kill off the remains of Rocket - they pretty well left us alone. But I had trained my men _very_ well, and the military learned that the hard way through fighting the new Rocket. By the time their army was crushed, they came begging to us for help. We were the only ones that had any experience fighting them. We trained together, after all, and we were no longer causing any trouble. Despite all that I had done, I was given a second chance to make it big. They made us part of the military. A special forces unit."

"So that's how the CIC was formed…" Michael said. "Tell me, does that mean that those people outside… those soldiers…"

"The oldest of them were in Team Rocket at one time, yes."

"…Wow."

"Not quite what you expected, is it?" Giovanni asked.

"Not in the slightest," he responded honestly.

"We are living proof that anyone can change their ways. I never got involved in human or sex trafficking, but I did my fair share of evils. Everybody _can_ change, but not everybody _will_ change. And right now, even though it seems hypocritical for me to say this, we can't wait for them to 'convert,' or come to their senses - not when innocent people are suffering on this scale."

"No, we would be wrong to wait," Michael agreed. "Protect civilians over terrorists."

"Exactly," he said. "Now, I've definitely given you a nice little breakdown of my past. You still have yet to tell me what you think."

"…Honestly, I'm not really sure what to think," Michael replied. "I hate what you've done… this mess that you've created… but I can't bring myself to hold that against you. Not when you've made amends and taken steps to fix the situation." After thinking it over to himself for a moment, he concluded. "No, I have nothing against you, or at least, the _new_ you. But you haven't told me - what is it that you want from me? I heard that you looked over my footage, but that doesn't give any answers as to what you need me for."

"Yes, Wesley sent me your footage. Told me that he thinks he found 'the one' for the raid."

"Raid? What raid?" Giovanni walked over to a hanging map of the region, dotted, marked, and scribbled on, various locations being pinpointed. He pointed to a circled region - northeast. The old Power Plant.

"Soon, we will be launching an attack. Power usage and energy production have gone through the roof as of recently, and we have reason to believe that have taken legendaries captive there."

"Wait a second," Michael said, trying to process it all. "You mean to tell me they may have captured _legendaries_?"

"We're fairly certain that they have, yes. They've set up base there pretty big, so we're taking it back."

"So what purpose do I have in it?"

"I want you to lead it."

"Lead it?" Michael asked. "Why?"

"Because, son, what you did back there - that took real courage. That's something that can't be taught easily, and I need that right about now. I'm not gonna lie to you, though, this one will be pretty dangerous. I'm expecting to lose men on this mission. But we can't sit back and watch as they abuse legendaries."

"No," Michael admitted, "we can't. If you feel that you can use me, then I will by all means help."

"Really?" Giovanni asked. "That's it? Just like that? You aren't going to think about it for awhile?"

"Did you want me to?" Michael asked.

"Well, no… I just wasn't expecting a response so quickly."

"Well then, I'm sorry to disappoint."

"Oh no, trust me - there is no disappointment," he smirked. "Now, I do have one more proposition for you."

"Alright."

"How would you like to receive a partner?"

"A partner? What do you mean?"

"A pokémon - trained by the CIC. One of the best at stealth and disguise specialists we've trained."

"What for? I mean, what would we do?"

"You and he would go on missions, much like you already do. He'd be there to provide backup." Michael considered it for a moment - a pokémon _could_ be helpful on certain missions, especially in stealth ones.

"Sure, I'll meet with him. What kind of a pokémon is he?"

"A zoroark."

 **. . . . .**

"How'd the meeting go?" Wesley asked that night upon his arrival.

"Didn't expect—."

"For the leader of a counterterrorism special forces group to have been a former criminal overlord? Yeah, he probably gets that a lot."

"Why wasn't I told?" he asked. "I mean, it would've been nice to know beforehand."

"Be honest with yourself," Wesley replied, "would you have agreed to have met with him if you knew the truth?" _…No… I probably wouldn't have…_ "So you see why we had to keep you in the dark?"

"Yeah, I guess so." It was late, so he decided to return to his quarters, picking up a quick meal at the cafeteria and eating it there since the girls probably grabbed something hours before.

"About time you showed up," Charlotte said as he walked in. A hand on her lip, as well as a wide grin, denied any hint of anger.

"Yeah, I know it took awhile, especially since it's an off day. But there was an important reason for it." He filled all of them in on the details, but left out the fact that the mission could be dangerous. They already worried enough.

"Who would've thought…" Layla said.

"Definitely not me," Michael chuckled. "But seriously, I'm glad he got himself straightened out." They each prepared for bed, but to his surprise, Elise walked back to the master bedroom, as she had done before.

"It's Chars turn," she told him when he asked. _Turn? What is that supposed to mean?_ He received his answer when Charlotte approached the couch, hopping up beside him.

"You're mine tonight," she teased. He didn't know how to respond, so he simply kept quiet, albeit blushing slightly at her implications. The fact that she gently nipped at his neck didn't help.

"Char…"

"Lighten up," she giggled, "I was only teasing." Despite her words, though, she wrapped herself around him, straddling him, running her paws through his hair, and kissing him softly on the cheek.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **That sums up this part of the story! Like I said, be watching the further development of the relationships between Michael and the girls. If you decide to leave a review, go on and tell me your thoughts - where you think the story is headed, how you feel, any suggestions/criticisms, etc. See y'all next chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**

 **Finally got this one up! Sorry it took a bit longer, but this is definitely the most essential chapter in the plot so far, so I had to touch up on several key details, edit, the whole nine yards. Anyways, a _lot_ happens in this chapter, focusing almost extensively on Michael and his new partner. **

**Now, as you may be tired of hearing by now, I am in no way affiliated with Nintendo, Game Freak, or Pokémon, so have no rights to the series. This is purely for enjoyment. Similarly, I am in no way affiliated with the various product names I use throughout the story, including H &K, Smith and Wesson, Boeing, IWI, etc. **

**One fair warning, there is some more m-rated content in this chapter, but it's pretty brief and insignificant.**

 **Have fun reading, and please feel free to leave a review for any questions or responses.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue  
**

* * *

 **"Wars may be fought with weapons, but they are won by men. It is the spirit of men who follow and of the man who leads that gains the victory."**

 **-George S. Patton**

* * *

 **Ch. 5 - The Legend**

Michael watched as the helicopter touched down, but didn't kill the engine. He could faintly see the pilot remove his helmet before the door opened. Nate stepped out, complete with his CIC uniform, and was followed by a 5'6" zoroark. "Glad to hear you'll be lending us your service," Nathaniel said. "Had to say - I had my doubts when you were headed to that meeting."

"I just hope y'all made the right call about me," Michael said.

"I know we did. Now enough of that - this here's your new partner." The zoroark stepped forth, extending his hand.

"Hey," he said, with a slightly coarse voice. "I'm Ezekiel, but I usually go by Zeke." The tips of his mane had blue highlights in them, and there was a lone piercing in his right ear. Michael shook his clawed hand, noticing the metallic coloration of them. Zeke must've seen him looking. "Only weapons I need," he chortled.

"Are they coated?"

"Mhm. Much easier to keep a sharp point that way."

"Have you ever considered… I don't know, using a gun?" Zeke laughed, apparently finding humor in the suggestion.

"Why? All I gotta do is sneak up close - and slash!" He swiped his right claws a foot away from his neck as if to emphasize his point, making Michael tense up involuntarily.

"I guess that isn't too hard to do when you can control their perceptions," Michael said.

"Not at all. Before they realize that I'm not one of them, they've already choked on their own blood." _Well he certainly doesn't put it lightly…_ "And besides, I don't have to worry about noise or anything."

"What about the mess? If you just go around slittin' throats, you're gonna spill a lot of blood," Michael countered.

"Eh, hide 'em quick," Zeke shrugged.

"The two of you can fantasize about Zeke's claws later," Nate joked. "I gotta get back."

"Okay, thanks for droppin' me off," Zeke said, giving him a slight wave as he hopped back on the helicopter, taking off seconds later. The two of them made their way into the complex.

"Got any experience in the field?" Michael asked.

"Been at it longer than you," Zeke joked. "Let's see… 'bout four years now. Mostly stealth, infiltration, and espionage. Usually worked solo, but I can cover one more."

"You can create an illusion to cover me?" Michael asked.

"Yep. It's a bit more tiring, but well within my abilities."

"That's pretty useful."

"Mhm. Haven't failed a mission yet," he added, a slight sense of pride in his accomplishment. He turned to the side, apparently looking at something. "Heh, that there's a fine little vixen." Michael followed his gaze, then shot him a particularly nasty glare.

"That would be _my_ braixen," Michael snapped. Zeke's ears dropped.

"…Oh… I'll just stop talking right now." _Good idea._ Charlotte waved, trotting up to them, a wide smirk on her face.

"There you are - I've been looking all over for you," she said. "Who's that?"

"Charlotte, this is Zeke. Zeke, Charlotte."

"A pleasure…" Zeke quietly said.

"Hey there," she said, before shifting her focus back to Michael. "Hurry up - the movie's about to start!"

"This one better not be another chick flick," he groaned. "I mean, seriously - what's wrong with an action movie every once in awhile? Or a comedy? Or _something_ other than a sappy romance?"

"Nothing's wrong with those options," she said. "But none of those are what we picked. Now come on!" She grabbed his hand, hurriedly leading him away. He tried to avoid catching the inevitable looks he received from nearby soldiers as he was being forcibly escorted by a braixen not much over half his height, and ignore their laughter. They sped into their quarters and into the living room. _Arceus help me,_ he thought, looking at the screen. Unfortunately, his prayers weren't answered.

 **…..**

Michael hopped off of Veronica's back, this time not having to rely on the oak tree to keep his balance. Though his feet were a bit wobbly, he held fast, refusing to fall down. "See? You're gettin' the hang of it," she said. "You even managed to tolerate a few maneuvers that time."

"Maybe," Michael said, his vision still spinning. Veronica grabbed his shoulders for support.

"You'll get used to the sudden equilibrium changes - in time. But for now, I'd say you did pretty well today." She grabbed him and pulled him to the ground with her, resting on her side, and giving a swift lick to his cheek.

"And you've gotten more agile," he commented.

"Must be the training."

"How's that been going?" he asked. She shrugged.

"It's tiresome, but I cant complain. Although," she grunted, "there is this _one_ other trainee."

"Hmm?"

"Another flygon."

"Oh?" he said, "well, please don't bring home any eggs."

"Gross!" she yelled, smacking him lightly. Or rather, lightly for _her_ , as it did manage to sting a little. "It's not like that at all!" Her outburst only fueled his laughter more. "He's such a flirt, and a showoff. Annoys the hell outta me. Don't jump to conclusions like that!"

"Ver," he said, rubbing her side lovingly, "I couldn't resist - it was too perfect an opportunity. I was only kidding, okay?"

"…Alright."

"But in all seriousness, I will be supportive of whoever you decide to tie the knot with, just so long as they are of moral character." She turned to face away from him, muttering something under her breath. He couldn't really decipher much of what she said, but he could've sworn that he heard 'if only.'

 **…..**

It was later that night that Wesley called a meeting for the seven of them. When they entered, he was pacing back and forth, seemingly lost in thought, only snapping back to reality when Thomas had said his name. He composed himself, and they gathered around the table. "We were able to retain all of the information on the drivers," he said.

"That's good to hear," Alex said.

"No, it _isn't_!" Wesley snapped. "Things aren't adding up. Take a look at this." He pulled up a document on the table's display, filled with various figures and labels. "This is their financing for the year - it's legit." They looked over the figures for a moment, but it didn't take long for them to become similarly concerned.

"Three hundred-fifty million on fuel, four hundred million on power, another hundred in weapons - just for this year! Not to mention transportation, wages, or their profits." He swapped the display, opting to the large map of Kanto. There were three circled areas. One was in an unnamed stretch of the northwestern mountains, another within the city limits of Pewter. The final was the old Power Plant. "These are their bases."

"All that money… for _three_ bases?" Michael asked.

"Exactly my point. This can't be all. Nathaniel's forces have investigated the Pewter base - it's underground, but it fits within a damn museum."

"No… something's not right there," John admitted. "That's way too much funding for a couple of bases."

"What's worse is that there were hardly any names listed in the files. They've been very careful to cover their tracks."

"Damn, that makes our job a hell of a lot harder," Michael said. And for the next hour, they discovered just how much so. It was looking as though it was going to be a battle between two parties of ghosts. It seemed like a painstakingly awful task before them, and they had no leads. Without any ideas, they simply settled on attempting to retrieve more information from the bases. Wesley dismissed the six frustrated Reapers for the night, but held Michael back.

"Don't worry, the debriefing will be quick," he assured. _Debriefing?_ He called for Zeke, who came minutes later, and went straight back to the table. "Long story short, I'm sending the two of you right to the Pewter base in two days."

"This soon? I have no idea how to operate with him," Michael replied.

"Rest assured, Zeke is an expert at what he does. He will be able to disguise you without a problem."

"I sure hope so…"

"Relax, man," Zeke replied. "I've got your back."

 **…..**

Michael unplugged the drain of the tub, letting the water out. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around Elise's frame, and lifted her out. "Thanks," she said, giving him a light peck as he finished drying her off.

"Don't mention it El," he replied, gently stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers. "I'll always take care of all of your needs."

"Thank you," she said, nuzzling into his side, albeit blushing. She said something quietly, but he wasn't able to understand it.

"What did you say?" She looked up at him, but wasn't fully able to meet his gaze.

"Did you mean that?" she asked. "That you'll take care of _all_ of my needs?"

"O…of course," he replied.

"…Okay…"

 **…..**

Both Michael and Zeke stood before Wesley once more, looking over the satellite imagery of what had appeared on the outside to be the Pewter Museum of Science. Several photos, though, of the back side disproved this. A stairway led down into what appeared to be a back basement entrance. Only, a pair of armed guards on each side contradicted any appearance of normality. "This is where you two will slip in." The two guards were positioned near the wall, so there was no sneaking behind them. "Zeke, this is where you'll come in handy." Wesley slid two photos across the table to them, drawing their attention to two unfamiliar faces. One had coarse red hair, a mustache, and dull brown eyes, whereas the other had blonde hair and golden eyes much like Michael's. "Unfortunately," Wesley joked, "these two are no longer able to grace us with their presence. Lyman Sherwood and Porter Neville - Nate's boys picked 'em off yesterday."

"So? How's that significant?" asked Michael.

"The enemies don't _know_ that."

"Ah, so we're gonna disguise as these two?"

"Precisely. That's how you two'll avoid detection."

"Shouldn't be much trouble," Zeke added.

"Now, for the objective. We did receive a few names back from Cinnabar - here's one of 'em." Another photo was displayed, this one being of a man in his late thirties. A thick build and dark brown hair, much like Michael's, were his most noticeable features, but he also had tattoo sleeves on both arms from the wrists up. "This is Brett Milton, a lead admin in their sex trafficking business. If you can think of an atrocity, he's probably done it. He was also tied to the transports in Hoenn two years ago, so we're gonna take him out." Wesley looked directly at Michael, then continued. "I understand you feel strongly about this matter, but Michael, for the love of Arceus, get it over with quickly - don't torture the fucker."

"Wait a second - he _tortured_ a guy?" Zeke asked.

"A thug, yes, but that's for another time. Now, here's the gear the two of will be using." The display, for the last time that night, switched, this time to what appeared to be the enemies' standard uniforms - also familiar, consisting of camouflage jackets and dark undershirts. "Just to make things easier for Zeke, the two of you will wear their uniforms. You will each also have AKS and Glocks, but _do_ _not_ expect to use them - they're only there to sell the disguise. Going back to the mission, Brett will probably be in a more elaborate room than that of the regular soldiers, but we have no idea what the building looks like, nor where he may be. You're going in blind."

 **…..**

Michael put in his earpiece and clipped on the small microphone underneath his jacket. Since he lacked his mask, as its circuitry could interfere with the illusion, they needed to go more "old fashion," as Wesley put it, to have eyes and ears.

"Damn," Zeke huffed, "this thing is tight in all the wrong places." He managed to slip in to the pants, despite the fact that they were not created with a zoroark's physique in mind. No matter what he did, though, he could not manage to grasp the small zipper. He was finding great difficulty in fitting his claw inside the small hole, and thus, was practically unable to move the irritating piece of metal. "I need some help here," he said, defeated.

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen." Wesley seemed indifferent to them, rather focused on his laptop.

"Great," he said. "The concealed cameras are fully functional." They touched down at the edge of the eastern woods. Since they would be walking around fully and openly armed and disguised as domestic terrorists, they decided that it would be best to keep away from public view as much as possible, opting to venture straight through the woods rather than through the streets. Michael grabbed the silenced CZ-75 from the armory, loading a clip into it.

"You good to go?" he asked Zeke.

"Yeah, give me a minute to set up the illusions. Stand up straight." Zeke focused on the two photos intensely, his light blue eyes becoming even brighter. A slightly dark hue encompassed Michael's vision, settling down and into his body. Zeke's appearance became that of the red haired individual in the photos. Michael looked at the window and, faintly seeing that his reflection was no longer his, stepped out of the Chinook.

"Remember, he should be in an executive room."

"Yeah, I gotcha." Zeke walked out after Michael, tucking his shirt in as he went. They both had the Kalashnikov's over their shoulders, Glocks holstered at their sides. Michael, though, had the suppressed pistol in the side pocket of his jacket.

They continued onward through the dense forest, swallowed whole by the ominous shadows, but perhaps not quite as overtaken as they were by the eerie sounds permeating throughout. It was as though the entirety of the forest was watching them, despising their presence. Several hateful glares rightfully made them feel nervous about being there, and the blood-curdling shrieks of the bird types made them wonder if they would be attacked. "Alright," Zeke concluded, "I don't like this one bit."

"Yeah, screw this shit," Michael added. "I'm giving it a few minutes before we're swarmed."

"Just take it easy," Wesley advised. "If push comes to shove, Sebastian can send out a telepathic message to resolve the situation." _Yeah, if they don't kill us first…_

"I take it that the locals here aren't too fond of our enemies," Michael said.

"Really?" Zeke said. "What possibly would've suggested that?"

"That could work out very well to our favor," Wesley said, ignoring the zoroark's sarcasm. "It would be nice to have a few more eyes and ears out there, not to mention volunteers."

"Well it definitely isn't working to our favor _now_ ," Michael said, looking away from a coiled-up arbok that likely wished to see him burn in hell. "I can't wait to take these disguises off." It had been about a ten minute, fast-paced endeavor to reach the clearing that bordered the museum. They kept to the side, but looked around, seeing the same two guards they had seen in the photo.

"Alright, now head around casually." The duo rounded the corner, reaching the guards and the stairs, leading down into who knew what.

"Turnin' in for the night?" one of the two nonchalantly asked.

"Yeah," Zeke said.

"Make sure you've made y'all's last stops for today - curfew is in under ten."

"We're good to go," Michael said. One of the two motioned for them to pass, so they did. Michael twisted the knob, opening the door, and walked through the small hallway, taking in the sights of the base. It easily matched the size of the underground CIC headquarters, but only had stairs in each of the corners rather than elevators. A small cafeteria was to their left, some offices to their right, and a hell of a lot of people up and about.

"Shit, this place is huge." No one argued with him over that. Looking at the sign next to the closest stairway, Michael discovered that there were, thankfully, only three floors. Getting an idea, Michael stood in line at the cafeteria, grabbing a tray. "What the hell are you doing?" asked Zeke.

"Just give me a minute." Michael ordered randomly, choosing roast beef, corn, and lima beans. Holding the tray, he walked up to a nearby individual. "Excuse me, could you tell me where Brett's room is?"

"Lazy fucker had you bring him his meal?" the man laughed.

"Yeah."

"Third floor, C hall."

"Thanks." They walked towards the stairs, keeping pace with the ongoing traffic.

"That was smart," Wesley said. "Get them to lead you straight to the target." They continued downwards, finally reaching the bottom-most floor. Things were winding down here, as there was very little movement - most had likely retreated to their rooms for the night. The four hallways, two on each side, were each labeled, A and C on the left, with C being closest to them.

"Oh look, how convenient," Zeke said. The hallway extended a great distance, being lined with rooms to the left and right. As one enemy had slipped by and into his room, Michael caught a quick glance at the interior. Much like a college dorm, there were two beds on the inside at opposite ends, and a room to the left, which he assumed was a shared bathroom between them and the neighboring room. At the very end, the hallway branched to the left.

"There we are. Stay alert." Rounding the corner revealed a single guard stationed there, sitting on a chair to the side of the door.

"Brett's room?" Michael asked.

"Yeah. Here to drop that off?" he asked, pointing to the tray of food.

"Yep."

"You can just leave it here. I wouldn't bother him at the moment."

"Alright." Michael handed him the tray. He set it down on his lap. "By the way, what time is it?"

"Let's see," the man said, looking down at his wristwatch, "It's 8:13."

"Oh, your time's up." The guard looked confusedly at him.

"No it isn't, I'm here unt—." He never got to finish, as Michael quickly drew his pistol and shot him twice, each shot in the head. His body slumped down, blood trickling down his face and onto his shirt. A large spray pattern lined the walls, formed by the no longer functioning gray matter.

"Yeah, it is." Zeke chuckled at this. Michael took the tray off of him, set it aside, and ripped off the man's jacket, tossing it to Zeke. "Scrub this shit up." He silently opened the door, peering inside. A small, empty kitchen to the right, an equally vacant living room to the left. He grabbed the body and dragged it inside quietly, depositing it in the kitchen, behind the countertop. That way, he could keep it well hidden in case that the target was up and about, while also removing it from open sight outside. Pistol drawn, he crept through the small hallway, looking into the dark bathroom along the way. The sound of giggling caught his attention, directing him towards the bedroom at the end. The door was ajar, the room dimly lit. Slowly, he looked inside, caught by surprise. There was his target alright - with the only thing covering any of his skin being his tattoos. _Fuck, I didn't need to see that._ Equally as naked, though, were two women, both looking to be around six or seven years younger than him. Michael retreated back into the hallway.

"Ah dammit," he said. "He brought prostitutes." He heard Zeke chuckling through the radio. "Stop laughing - this is serious."

"I'm sorry, I can't help it," he snorted. "It just looks like you're gonna have to… _kill_ the mood!"

"Commander, what should I do?"

"…I hate to tell you this, but proceed with the mission as normal."

"…But that means…"

"No witnesses," Wesley confirmed. For a moment, Michael just stood there.

"I understand that they're whores and all… but they don't deserve to _die._ "

"I understand... but the fact of the matter is this: if that man is allowed to live, then there are gonna be a lot more in their position - _involuntarily_. We need this to remain covert - if they trace the deaths back to two dead soldiers, they _will_ know that someone on the outside was behind it. If there are no witnesses, though, they will think that it was someone on the inside, and they will panic." Michael didn't respond, but he knew that Wesley was right. "You can't save everyone," he added. Michael gripped his pistol harder, but approached the door, placing his left hand flat against it. At this point, Brett was tracing the folds of one, making her moan in pleasure, while the other sat on his lap, with his member hilted within her. He shoved the door open, gaining everyone's attention.

He killed the two women first - they were likely to scream, and that could attract attention. The one that was being fingered caught a bullet right over her left eye, staining both her blonde hair and the white sheets red. He similarly killed the brunette on top of him with a shot through the nose, severing the brain stem and dropping her instantly. The bullet, despite the decreased penetration of a hollow-point load, exited the back of her skull and lodged itself within Brett's neck. He fell back, with the prostitute still on him, and grasped his throat. Michael walked over to the edge of the bed, and rolled the woman off of him. Brett made eye contact with him, and more importantly, the 9mm pointed straight at his face. His head snapped back as a result of the silent invader to his brain. Michael shot them all once more for confirmation, draped the covers over them, then shut and locked the door behind him. "Good work, son."

Michael left the now uninhabited quarters. Zeke sprung up from the seat, carrying the tray inside. "Really?" Michael asked upon seeing the roast beef missing.

"I got hungry, and there was food right there." He set it in the kitchen, then rushed out.

"How could you possibly eat at a time like this?"

"Simple - while you were probably beatin' the meat, I was eatin' the meat."

"That's just fucking gross," Michael said, shaking his head. "And trust me - I was not impressed."

"Why? Were they ugly?" Zeke asked.

"No, but the fact that they were whores is kind of a turn-off." They headed back out the C hall, seeing nobody throughout, and only a couple of people on the entire floor at the time. The two retraced their steps - back up the stairs, through the rest of the first floor, and back to the entrance. Checking behind him and noticing that it was clear, he grabbed the handle of his pistol once more. He opened the door, causing one of the two guards to turn and look at him. "I told you, curfew - get your asses back inside."

"Of course," Michael said, "I just forgot something."

"What?" he asked, visibly annoyed. Not that it mattered, anyways - within seconds, both of the two were dead. Michael grabbed one; Zeke grabbed the other. Together, they carried the bodies into the woods from which they came, only depositing them after they were well away from the scene.

"Go ahead and drop the illusions," Michael said. The dark fog was lifted, and they both appeared as themselves once more. Not that it mattered much; the two disappeared into the night, leaving behind them a soon-to-unfold scene of chaos and confusion.

 **…..**

Two days later, though, and it was anything but a time for rest. With Layla cuddling up to his side, a knock on the door interrupted their time together. She rolled her eyes, but he stood up and answered the door. It came as a surprise when he found Giovanni of all people standing there. "What are you doing over here?" Michael asked.

"I need to speak with you a moment," he said, looking at Layla by his side, and added, "alone." He stepped outside and shut the door behind him. "Do you still want to lead the mission?"

"Of course. Why do you ask?"

"Because if you do, then we need to leave within the hour."

"What? Why?" he asked confused. "I thought it wasn't until a few more weeks."

"It wasn't, but after they found Brett's body, all hell broke loose. They don't know if there's a mole within their ranks, so they're running at full force. We've run outta time."

"How long will we be gone?"

"About a week."

"Ugh, the girls aren't gonna like this…"

"So? Bring them with us," Giovanni said.

"I can do that?"

"I don't see a problem with it." And neither did the girls when he proposed the idea to them. In fact, Veronica was more or less excited about the journey, wondering if she could be of any use to the operation, given her training. Giovanni had initially refuted this, saying that she was still too inexperienced in the field, but eventually permitted her to assist in transporting injured personnel to safety. He packed for the short trip, and they all departed for the runway, approaching Giovanni's private jet. Wesley was there to see them off.

"Be careful," he said, looking over both him and the girls. "I better see five bodies step off that plane."

"Don't worry, you will." But, as he would find out in a few days, this would not be the case.

 **…..**

Michael sat in the new leather seat, Elise's head in his lap. "Like an over-demanding pup," Veronica remarked. Whether or not Elise heard was questionable, but her only actions were to continue lavishing in his petting. Giovanni sat across from him, a table between them, and a sleek computer to the side. A large satellite photo stretched out on top of it displayed six buildings - one in the center, the rest surrounding it, creating a pentagon, more or less. Giovanni cleared his throat, gaining Michael's attention.

"I need to speak to you alone," he said. Michael looked over at them and nodded. "They can either go to the back of the plane or in the balls, but this information is absolutely imperative. With them here, I doubt that you will be focused on the topic at hand." Wordlessly, the four of them walked to the back of the jet, but not before Elise nuzzled his hand one last time.

"So what're we dealing with here?" Michael asked, observing the diagram.

"The plant has been converted into a lab of sorts." Giovanni replied. "The main building has not changed much since it was built - it still serves to generate power, which they've both sold and used themselves. The five surrounding, though… they are being used for something _much_ different." He opened a file on the computer - a short segment of video footage, zoomed in to the twenty-foot tall building. A few minutes in and the door slid open for an approaching scientist. Giovanni paused the video. "Right here," he said. Michael scanned over the inside, finally seeing the object of interest. A large cylindrical container - probably composed of ballistic glass - housed a coballion, lying on its side. It was shackled down, wires connected to its body. The container was wired to a set of generators, one on each side. _What the heck?_ He resumed the video. The scientist entered, and the door began to slide back. Before it reached the other side, however, the wires lit up, adopting a radiant blue. The coballion writhed and bellowed in pain, but was held completely stationary in the prison.

"What the fuck _was_ that?!"

"They're extracting from them, probably in all five," Giovanni said. "This one was in the southwest lab."

"Extracting?"

"Yeah, draining their energy."

"Arceus," he muttered, "bunch of damn monsters."

"I know. Whether it's for torture or not, they are getting a hell of a lot outta them. I'd say it's about time we put an end to it."

"Amen to that," Michael replied. "So what's the plan?"

"There will be three teams, each near a hundred people. We're starting things off with a bang - carpet bombing the ever living shit out of the main building and central area. The A Team will invade from the north, taking the top building and bringing it to anyone left standing on the field. B Team will come from the southeast, hitting the bottom right set of buildings. That leaves C Team with the two on the left."

"Alright, sounds good to me. Which one will I be in?"

"You'll be leading B Team, hooking around from the bottom up. I expect you'll be able to raise hell there."

"Hopefully," Michael said. "What weapons will I be using?"

"Heh, you're gonna love this," Giovanni replied. "Took inspiration from your footage back at Cinnabar."

"You mean…?"

"An AGS-30, yes. Although, this one's got a little bit more of a bite to it - mainly from the grenades."

"What did you do to them?"

"Loaded them _really_ hot. Just don't shoot them anywhere close to yourself, and you should be fine."

 **…..**

They landed in Celadon for the night, as they were already ahead of the CIC convoys. Giovanni checked in to a nice hotel for the both of them. They all ate across the street, and departed for their rooms towards nine. Without much more to be said, they all turned in for the night.

Michael, as an odd tendency, rarely dreamt. But that night, he found himself entrapped within the corner of his mind, and consciously so. He knew he was not awake, but yet there was nothing he could do about it.

The environment around him was a distorted violet coloration, and carried much disturbance with it. Almost a painful throb, in fact. _Ugh… what the hell?_ He looked around, but the abyss surrounded him completely.

 _'Please…'_ A voice rang out in his head, clearly not his own.

 _'W…what? Who's there?'_ The voice returned, this time, more recognizable.

 _'Please.. help us…'_ Whoever it was, it was definitely female. Michael could honestly say that it was probably the most beautiful voice he'd ever heard.

 _'Where are you?'_ he asked concernedly.

 _'You'll see… soon-.'_ She screamed out in pain, cutting herself off. _'I don't know,_ she panted, _how much longer I can..take this…'_ Another scream, and he jolted out of bed. He was covered in sweat, and upon looking in the bathroom mirror, found himself pale as a ghost. He rinsed his face in the sink. It was no use trying to get back to sleep again - it surely wouldn't come after that.

 **…..**

Base camp was formed a little over six miles away from the plant. Conversation was kept to a bare minimum, and what was said was done so very quietly. They set up all preparations around midday, setting out their suits and weapons for easy accessibility. Veronica's entire frame, except for her wings and face, would be wrapped in thick kevlar. "I have to say, Ver, you look rather menacing," Michael commented when she tried it on.

"Aww, thank you." Since they stuck at nightfall, and they had a bit of a walk ahead of them, they each retreated to their tents to rest for the remainder of the daylight hours. Veronica lay right beside him, draping her tail over his left leg.

 **…..**

Just as he had the night before, he found himself entrapped within the purple abyss. This time, though, his head was throbbing - not very painfully, but it definitely brought him agitation. _Great, this dream again…_

 _'Are you there?'_ he asked. For a moment, he could hear nothing, but finally a response came.

 _'Barely… but I won't be for much longer.'_ Her voice was only a faint whisper at this point. ' _I only have the strength… to do this once, so watch closely.'_ His view changed, no longer his own, into what looked like a hazy flashback. No, not a flashback - the present. Large wires drew close to his field of view. He was looking outside of a container, desks and control panels in front, and scientists behind them. A gray-haired man, wearing a two-piece suit and with a cleanly shaven beard seemed to be in his mid fifties. His cold gaze was directed straight at him. The vision didn't last long, but it was enough to make him understand.

 _'You're one of the trapped legendaries, aren't you?'_

 _'_ _That… seems to be your names for us, yes,'_ she replied. _'Please come… free us from these monsters.'_

"Again!" the man said. His face showed no feeling, no compassion whatsoever. Accompanied by the glowing wires, the heart wrenching sound of her screaming seemed to ingrain within his mind. The vision seemed to get blurrier, much to his confusion. Only, when he heard the sounds of her sobbing, he finally understood that she was no longer able to withhold her tears.

 _'I want you to listen to me - I am going to get you out of there if it's the last thing I do.'_

 _'_ _I hope I can hold you to that,'_ she sniffed. _'I cannot endure this much longer…'_

 _'_ _You won't have to.'_ The gray-haired man - likely an admin, now that he thought about it - paced to the side by the scientist controlling the switch.

"Again." The wires lit up, and the vision faded.

 **…..**

Michael woke up with a start, Veronica over him and stretching out. "Good, you're up." She helped him to his feet. "Thought you were gonna oversleep there for a second." The two of them left the tent, the others eagerly following them, into the dusk of night. Most of the soldiers had already begun preparing themselves for the mission, strapping on their own dark vests. Giovanni was conversing with a captain, seemingly awestruck by what he was hearing.

"What are we to do, sir?" the captain asked

"I don't know… I guess just let him do his own thing."

"Do you think he's a threat?"

"…No, I don't think so. He should be fine."

"Alright," he said before walking away. "Ready up!" he yelled to his men. Michael approached Giovanni, curious as to what the confusion was about.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing is wrong."

"You sure look surprised as hell."

" I am - it seems that someone else will be joining us in the raid."

"Who?"

"Someone I wouldn't have expected in a million years."

 **…..**

Midnight arrived, the full moon glowing a radiant orange in the dark, lightly-clouded sky. _A perfect night for violence_ , Michael mused. He was fully ready - ready to end each and every one of the enemies not even a hundred yards ahead of him and B Team. Veronica, along with the other "war dragons," as they had been coined, were further behind in the woods, awaiting the signal to take flight. "Are all teams ready?" Giovanni asked.

"C is ready to go," one captain said.

"Good to go at A," the other said.

"Michael, how is B?" Giovanni asked.

"I'd say we're ready to go. When are the bombers pulling in?"

"We're nearing the site," a pilot answered. "Be there in two." Michael focused on his plan of engagement - he and the rest of B Team would swarm the nearest building, which had a dozen on top of the roof, and several around it. They would have a moment's opportunity to catch them by surprise — the enemies would surely be caught off guard after the bombs hit. There were several turret-mounted vehicles, some even being driven at the moment, but most of them would be wiped out by the blast. Those that remained… well, he tightened his grip on the AGS-30. The launcher was dreadfully heavy, much like trying to run around with Elise in his arms, though far easier to grip. His left hand latched on to the top handle, and his right was on the trigger, which was on the right side of the weapon. He had opted out of taking the tripod that went with it, as he wouldn't really be setting the weapon down. It would just add more weight, and that was the last thing that he needed right now. Carrying the grenade launcher and two of the weapon's large thirty-round drums of ammunition, as well as his suit, he was already dealing with well over a hundred pounds strapped to him. At his side were a USP-45, not silenced, and an ultra ball for easier extraction of the legendaries. "Be there in ten seconds," the pilot said.

"Best of luck to all of you," Giovanni said.

"Speaking of luck," the pilot said, "I'd say their's has just about run out."

"Bring the rain!" the C Team captain said.

Of course, what befell them was anything but water, but rather fire. They watched as the bombs fell towards the entirety of the center, towards the enemies and main building; watching their confusion as they looked up to the sky, wondering why the sounds of planes had permeated into the desolate area. Their confusion was cut short as they were struck with the flames of hell itself. In the fiery flash, the building was destroyed; vehicles shredded apart, becoming like large grenades themselves. Michael had never seen such a sight - in the blink of an eye, hundreds of patrolling enemies simply vanished into the perplexingly beautiful explosions, completely engulfed by the unnatural display of fireworks. "NOW!" Michael yelled.

He led the B Team out of the outskirts of the woods. At this point, the enemies had begun fumbling around, readying their weapons, but they were far too late for their opponents, who had been prepared. The first shots were fired from the CIC members who had remained in the woods, targeting all of the enemies near the building. By the time he had exited the woods fully, there were no enemies left standing in the area. The door, though, was shut tight, and locked into place. _Let's see if I can't change that_. He shot two grenades at the door, effectively blowing it off the hinges and into pieces. Giovanni apparently wasn't kidding when he said that they loaded the grenades hot…

Michael dashed into the building, quickly analyzing any threats inside. Three armored guards stood there, lifting themselves off of the ground and trying to ready their weapons. Their fatal mistake was being in the same area, as proven by a single explosion. Dismembered before they knew what hit them, the enemies became one with the floor, ceiling, walls, and people around them. A man with bright blue hair backed up against a desk, completely defenseless against the Reaper before him. Michael grabbed him by the throat and slammed him on the ground, forcing the air out of his lungs. Before he could speak a word, Michael shoved the thick barrel of the weapon into his mouth. "I'm gonna give you five seconds to turn that thing off before I paint this ugly-ass floor with your brain." The man obviously could tell that Michael was not bluffing, as he signaled the nearby scientist with a trembling hand. The machine could be heard shutting down, and the glass enclosure lowered into the ground. With the situation deescalated, and CICs rushing into the building, he finally was able to focus on the legendary.

What he knew to be a proud, magnificent pokémon looked like anything but at the moment. The towering legendary was reduced to a crumpled heap, breathing deeply and laying on its stomach. "I've taken over the first building," Michael said.

"Well that was fast," an individual from another team commented.

"What'd they have locked up in there?" Giovanni asked. Since he did not have access to Michael's current display footage, he was relying completely on communication. Michael shook his head in disbelief.

"They managed to catch _the_ groudon."

"Ah shit," Giovanni muttered. "That's unsettling, to say the least. Go on and get it outta there."

"Okay," Michael said before turning to the CICs. "Set up a defensive perimeter!" With what they had just seen - him clearing the room single-handedly - no one questioned him. He walked up to the fallen legendary, who looked, contrary to his nature, completely vulnerable. He took his dagger out and cut the wires off of it. "Hey there," he said, squatting down to his current level. "We're here to bust you the hell outta here." The legendary gave a single nod, not able to do much more. "Alright, it's pretty obvious that you aren't able to move after all that. I'm going to get you out, but I need to put you in a ball to do that. You have my word that you _will_ come out of it, and that it will not be a legitimate capture. Do you trust me to do that?" For a moment, he seemed uncertain of the options, but finally gave him another nod. Michael grabbed the ultra ball and pressed it to his forehead. The shackles that had bound the legendary fell to the ground as it was drawn into the ball. There was no fight; the well-known _ding_ signaled the "capture." "One down," Michael said. "How's your status over at A?"

"Going well so far," the captain said. "We're about to take over the lab."

"I'd watch myself over towards the second lab - most of their forces have retreated east. We're pursuing them now," the C captain said.

"Shit, that's our next stop."

"Well, you might wanna hold back on that for a little while," he replied.

"I don't _have_ 'a little while' - I need to clear these labs out _now_!" He stationed a group of fifteen there to secure the building and keep the scientists secure. They would be useful for interrogation. And who knew? Maybe they would experience some of the pain and suffering that they had given to the legendaries.

Michael and the others pulled out, hooking around the east wing of the complex. "We've got the north lab!"

"Great," Michael replied, "what pokémon was it?"

"It's a victini. Fidgety little bastard."

"What gender is it?"

"Hell if I'm gonna look."

"This is important!" Michael yelled. "Tell me its fucking gender!" A moment passed, and he had to take cover at the bottom of the hill, aiming up to ensure that the approaching enemies did not exploit their height advantage. If they dared to peak over, they would be met with the fire from fifty M4s. Well, them, as well as a single grenade launcher. Finally the response came.

"Congratulations, it's a boy," he joked.

"Ahhh dammit." Without a thought, he ran up the hill, signaling the men behind him to follow.

"What, are you _insane_?" one soldier asked.

"Obviously. Now get y'all's asses up here and help me push them back!" Michael waited until peaked over the top of the hill, finding, sure enough, the enemies that C Team had informed. They were engaged in a firefight with half of the C Team, who was using the wreckage of the main building for cover, retaliating with shots of their own. Now that he caught his first significant vision of the field itself, he realized that it was covered in flames. There were several vehicles zipping around in each direction, mounted turrets releasing barrages of lead at any opponent they may see. Thankfully, the enemies there had not seen him, instead focusing completely on their aggressors to the west. But then again, they weren't the only enemies there. The lancing, burning pain through his collarbone alerted him to that. "Fuck!" he screamed, clutching his left shoulder. He was forced to slide down to escape further injury. Looking at his glove, he found the slick, black fabric stained with his own blood. Going up to the top of the hill had been a risky move - though he knew the situation now, he had exposed himself to the enemies stationed on top of the second lab building - the one that they were supposed to head to next. He had caught a sniper's round while his back was turned. The suit did its job in slowing down the penetration, but could not halt the bullet fully, as evident by the round wedged within his collarbone.

"Michael, are you alright?!" Giovanni asked.

"…Yes," he gasped, applying pressure to his wound. "I caught a round in the shoulder."

"You'll live, but we need to get you off of that field." Michael shook his head.

"No, fuck that."

"Excuse me?"

"I said _fuck that_ \- these men are counting on me to lead them, and I'm not going to just leave. And besides that," he moaned, clutching his launcher, though it was now much more difficult, "I made a promise." Now that he knew about where the second building was, he raised the launcher over the hill, but did not look over himself - he couldn't take one of those to the face. Approximating the distance and drop-off, he shot at least half a dozen grenades towards the lab. The close explosions and yelling told him that he'd hit his mark. With them out of the picture, he peaked up quickly, confirming his hopes - the roof had collapsed in, leaving nobody left on top of it. The other soldiers had finally made their way to him. "Now!" He charged over the brow of the terrain, along with several others, all with their weapons raised.

It was at this point that the enemies had found themselves catching fire from both sides, but it was far too late to do anything about it. Michael targeted the largest threats - the vehicles - and proceeded to flip them over with carefully placed shots to the underside. The CICs to his left and right, as well as half a mile on the other side, had mowed the personnel in between down. By the time there were no more left standing, he had use the first of two drums. He ejected it, letting the empty clip fall to the ground before putting the second in. "Rush the second building!" he ordered. While they were on their way there, though, he had his heart ripped out of his chest.

"Shit! We're catching hell up here!" the captain of A Team yelled. "We need medical evac now!"

"Got it. Deploying the dragons now," Giovanni said. They had been stationed at the southwest, flying over the tree-line and toward the northern area of the complex, making a brief appearance over the western section. Apparently, that was all it took.

"They've got Stingers!" a soldier from C Team yelled.

"Shit, tell them to pull back!" But Giovanni's warning had come too late, for they had already flown over the field and into open sight. In the distance, he saw the shadowy silhouettes of the dragons, the rising glare of the missiles. Several began twisting about, some releasing jets of flame to stop the approaching certain death. One of them, though, tried to drop into a nosedive and avoid the missile. But it couldn't, even with the help of gravity, out-speed the missile. A distant explosion, and the now-wingless dragon fell to the ground.

"One's down!" the captain said. Suddenly it hit him like a rock.

"What species?!" Michael yelled.

"A flygon!"

"Oh Arceus," he moaned, leaning against the wall of the lab. The others had begun to infiltrate it, but he was unable to fight. "Oh Arceus." Nobody said anything, as the reality had just settled in.

"Michael… I'm sorry," Giovanni said.

"I should've never allowed this," Michael croaked. "She wasn't ready." The physical pain in his shoulder paled in comparison to the emotional pain. He had let her down; her death was indirectly on his hands. But speaking of letting girls down…

He grabbed the AGS-30, which he had dropped to the side in his emotional outburst. He cast an indifferent glance into the building, seeing that the CIC had already infiltrated and taken over. A look inside informed that the captive was a zapdos - much too large a species for what he had seen in the vision. He began making his way northwest, to the top-left building. B Team had achieved its objectives; now he could help C Team achieve theirs. He had to set aside his emotional pain for now - otherwise, he would fail more people. He could beat himself up later; cry for hours upon end - right now, he needed to keep his head.

"We're pulling back from the northeast building!" the leader of A Team shouted. "We're catching too much fire!"

"No, don't pull back!" Michael yelled.

"We don't have a fucking choice, kid!" Michael rolled his eyes, and began to sprint towards the lab.

"Fine, if you won't help me, I'll fuckin' do it myself."

"Michael, don't be reckless," Giovanni said. "You run up there alone, you _will_ die!"

"I already did," he replied, ignoring his warning. He passed the main building, or rather, its ruins. The final building had come into sight. _She_ was in that building, and she was dying. He would be damned if he'd allow that to happen. But just as C Team had said, the enemy forces were great in strength, and were pursuing the retreating counterinsurgents. Michael flanked them, releasing ten of his thirty remaining grenades among them before fleeing towards the side of the building. Bullets whizzed past as he rounded the corner, running along the side of the wall as the enemies on the roof aimed downwards at him. Another bullet penetrated him, making him stumble and fall to the ground, gasping for breath. This one entered not too far from the first, going through over the collarbone and slightly into his lung. Perhaps the worst part of being a biology major was knowing what was going on inside of him - knowing that his lung was collapsing, and that it was very likely a fatal injury.

He stumbled to his feet hazily, withdrawing his pistol an capping the enemy that had shot him, causing him to fall over and beside him. He was trapped; both he and the legendary running out of time.

The sounds of footsteps approached from the back of the building - they were surrounding him on three sides. He took up the grenade launcher once more, ready to give them a final fight. They had better put every single bullet they had in him, because he was taking as many of them as he could with him.

But it wasn't necessary - or at least, at the moment. Screaming ensued from around the corner, and bodies were flung like rag dolls. He dared to look around, seeing the source of the mayhem. An unfamiliar pokémon, clad in dark gray armor, was using psychic attacks with more speed and aggression than he had ever seen before. With its eyes radiating a light blue through its black visor, the pokémon levitated their own weapons in the air, and began firing in all directions. Within seconds, he had killed all of them, including the ones on top of the roof. Before Michael could do anything, it telekinetically raised a rifle towards him and fired a single shot. A _thud_ sounded ten yards behind him, in which an enemy, dropped his pistol and fell to the ground, a hole in his head. "Thanks," Michael gasped.

"Follow me around - I know why you are here," he said. "I will provide cover on the outside while you infiltrate the lab." He didn't offer any objections - this was as good a chance as he would get. He struggled to move, his chest tightening - he _knew_ what was happening, but was powerless to stop it. He needed help immediately. But so did she. He followed the pokémon to the front, who had already begun wreaking havoc on the enemies, raising a protective barrier like an assault shield while countering them with a vicious hyper beam with its other hand. "Go now!" he ordered.

Michael obliged; with his back turned to the pokémon, he blew the door of its hinges, and, not even letting the dust settle, released nearly the rest of his clip inside. He trudged through the debris and took in the scenery of what he had done. The remains of the inhabitants were strewn out about the room, bits of flesh, organs, and bone no matter where he looked, like some sort of grotesque slaughterhouse. His focus was not there, though, but rather towards the large, glass container. This was definitely her.

Though she naturally levitated, she was grounded at the moment. Her closing golden eyes made contact with his, or rather, his blood-red visor. She had an aerodynamic body, and a red and white coloration on her sleek down, only interrupted by the small blue triangle on her chest. The wires dangled, still connected to her limp frame. He began making his way towards her.

But he was cut off halfway. A surviving enemy, possessing heavy armor, but no longer his left forearm, tackled him into the control panel. The generators whirred to life, the blue wires lighting up. Now, he was but mere yards away from her screaming. He dropped the launcher in the process, not that it would be much help in a close-quarters situation. He grabbed his pistol and managed to get a shot in the chest before it was knocked away. His armor was too thick - the bullet likely didn't penetrate. "Fuck you!" he yelled, bringing his fist down on Michael's left side. At that point, his chest throbbing, he knew that his left lung had fully collapsed. The enemy, with his one remaining hand, withdrew a pistol of his own. Michael kicked him in the side, grabbing his arm and holding the pistol away. He withdrew his dagger, finding a thinner spot on the armor, and stuck it in the man's throat, making him fall limp on the blade. Michael withdrew it, and turned to revert his attention to the struggling latias. His visor cracked, and a pistol round blocked his left eye, only centimeters away, stuck within the mask. The admin from the vision, with gray hair and beard, was holding a .40 pistol, and shot a second time. He missed, but Michael ducked behind the control panel - he couldn't take that chance again unarmed. His launcher lay to the side, in clear vision of the admin, so reaching for it was out of the picture.

Out of ideas and time, the latias's dying screams forced him into action. He stood up quickly and threw the dagger at the admin. It went behind him, striking the wall and falling aside. He had missed his shot, and now he and the latias were going to die because of it. But if he had missed, why was the admin so nonreactive? The answer came as the thin, red line appeared over his left eye, nose, and under his right eye. The pistol fell to the floor. Still on his feet, the top of his head slid down and fell to the ground, while his body folded up and collapsed nearby.

Now free to act, he grabbed the launcher. He had no idea how to work the machine - that was Alex's department - so he did the next best thing he could think of, shooting the top of the cage. The glass broke, and the wires fell from the ceiling. He staggered towards her barely conscious form, throwing the empty launcher aside. "Leave me," she faintly whispered. "It is too late for me."

"Don't say that," he said, kneeling down. "I've got you - I promised I would get you outta here." Truth be told, he wasn't sure if _he_ was even getting out of there, but he refused to not try. He picked her up bridal style and walked back towards the doorway as quickly as he could. The generators had overheated. Once he'd made his way back outside, the deafening noise behind him alerted everyone within a five mile radius of the explosion. Besides the sound, though, he was notified by the feeling. He stiffened up; looking down, he was able to see a thin, metal shard peaking through his mid-chest. He fell to the ground, the latias unconsciously laying beside him. "Giovanni," he croaked, looking up to the night sky. "I want you t-to…" he coughed, spewing out warm blood, which he felt all over his chin.

"Michael, stay with me!"

"Tell the girls that I love them, and that… I'm sorry… I won't be coming home…"

"Kid, you gotta fight this," before shouting elsewhere. "Get the dragons over there NOW!" He felt the latias's neck, still feeling a pulse. _Good,_ he thought, _at least she still has a chance_. He gently stroked her cheek before his chest started throbbing violently once more. _This is it… I'm going to join Ver…_ The battled continued on, but he joined the fallen in no longer being a part of it. Before his vision faded, he saw a dragonite swoop in for a landing.

 **…..**

"Get the pump! He needs a CPB!" an alakazam shouted. Through blurred vision, he could see himself on a levitating stretcher, being pushed by the psychic type. He could faintly see the shard peaking through his chest, blood surrounding the one inch opening.

"MICHAEL!" Charlotte screamed, trying to get close to him.

"Get back!" Sebastian shouted as he ran up to him. Elise followed behind her, breaking out into tears, whimpering like a pup as she saw her trainer in his current state. He was taken into a tent, where medics were performing TMA on several wounded soldiers, or bandaging up others that had less serious wounds. When they saw the nature of his wounds, though, they stopped, focusing their attention on him. With a thick razor, his suit was cut off of him. His bare chest exposed, the gaping wounds made themselves apparent. A marker was used, a straight line drawn down his sternum. The machines came next, both an IV and a CPB. He knew what was coming - a cardiopulmonary bypass. They were going to open him up. Sure enough, Grace came forth with a breathing mask, placing it on him and pumping anesthetics into his barely functioning airway.

"You aren't gonna want to be awake for this part," she said. The last sight he remembered was the alakazam telekinetically moving the scalpel towards his chest.

 **…..**

He lazily opened his eyes, looking at the revolving ceiling fan, though the light was off. It wasn't necessary - the morning sun beamed through the white curtains. _Such a beautiful day,_ he thought. He sat up, realizing that there was a steadily beeping heart monitor to his side. _But why am I in a medical room?_ He felt the thin, sponge-like pads on his chest and stomach, giving the machine its readings on his heart. He snatched them off - he was fine; didn't need that damn thing. He stood up, walking towards the bathroom and pondering as to why he was there. Suddenly the memories flooded him - the invasion, his wounds, the latias - all of them haunting him. None as worse, though, as the death of Veronica. He broke out into tears, crying for the first time that he could remember. He had allowed her to go, and now, she would only return in a casket. He leaned against the wall, sobbing her name over and over. What he wouldn't give to go on one of those tortuous rides now… But he would never get that chance again.

The door opened, Grace holding a clipboard. "What are you doing up?" she asked sternly.

"I… lost her," he cried. "I lost her."

"Excuse me?"

"Ver…"

"Oh, your flygon…" Her eyes lit up momentarily. "I've alerted your friends of your awakening." He stumbled into the bathroom, halfheartedly rinsing his face off with water and trying to make himself more presentable. His bloodshot eyes were going to make that troublesome, though.

The door opened, and he doubted that he had ever sprinted so fast in his life. There was his beloved flygon, shoving her teammates aside to get to him. He slammed into her, all but tackling her. "I thought I lost you," he wailed.

"Me too," she sniffed. "There was so much blood, and… I…" she broke into tears.

"It's ok," he said, tears also streaming down his face. "I heard of a killed flygon on the field…"

"The flirt," she said. "I wish… that he had paid more attention during the lessons." He only tightened his grip on her, rubbing the back of her head and bringing her closer.

"I'm just… so _happy_ right now," he said. "I thought you were dead."

"We did too - you were out for almost a week!"

"Wait, what?!"

"That's what I was about to tell you, until you all got all sappy," Grace said.

"I was out for a _week?"_

"Almost," Wesley said, making his way through the doorway. "It took nearly all our TMA specialists to keep your heart beating. You caught shrapnel to the fucking heart, _and_ a bullet to your lung. It's a miracle you didn't die, even in the operation."

"But I've gotta say," Zeke said, "you sent a good many of them to their graves."

"What do you mean? You weren't there."

"Didn't have to be," he chuckled. "I suppose, though, being out for six days, you haven't turned on the news, now have you?"

"The news?"

"Come with me," Wesley said. He gathered his things and went to follow him out the door, but realized, upon moving around a bit, how _exhausted_ he was. All of his previous emotional swings must have stifled his tiredness, but now, he felt sore all over. "Is there a problem?" Wesley asked.

"No," he laughed, "I just realized how tired I am."

"Your body has been stressed," Grace said. "That's why I was trying to get you the hell back down." She turned to Wesley and shook her head. "And now you've got him all up and about. Thanks."

"Sorry about that," he muttered, before looking back at Michael. "Anyways, now that you're up, follow me." He walked after him, albeit slowly, often having to rely on the wall for support.

"I've gotcha," Thomas said, offering him a hand, which he readily accepted. "Caused quite a ruckus within the media."

"Ah shit, the media got involved?"

"You know they did, think about it - y'all fucked up the damn _Power Plant_."

"It was abandoned," Michael replied, before correcting himself. "Or at least, clear of civilians."

"Still was a pretty damn big landmark."

"Now it's a no-man's land," Alex joked. They all walked into the main building, heading to their lounge. Wesley used the desktop, pulling up the news coverage of a few days prior.

"The flames of war have fallen once more upon our region, this time at the old Power Plant. An invasion was launched by the CIC, and led by a member of the Twenty-Fifth Reaper squad. Insurgents set up base in the area, using the grounds for illegal experimentation on pokémon. All enemy personnel were either killed or taken hostage. The CIC suffered twenty-eight casualties last night, while the insurgents suffered over two-hundred. Reportedly, over a third of those were taken out by the Reaper, who has been nicknamed 'Grim' accordingly. Right now, he is undergoing surgery for major chest wounds accumulated in combat." Wesley closed the video.

"See?"

"They're probably wrong - I'm sure I didn't take out that many people."

"Seventy people outta two-hundred six. Thirty-four percent, to be exact. They're often wrong, but not in this case."

"Oh." The thought that he had now killed well over a hundred people kind of shocked him.

"But how do you like that nickname, though?" Kevin asked. "I mean - 'the Grim Reaper?' That just _sounds_ badass."

"This is bad," Michael said. "The last thing I need is publicity. Don't need anyone finding out my identity."

"It actually might work for the best. That name could very well become a legend - a name that they will come to fear. We need them to be scared; need to crush their morale," Wesley said.

"Well, I guess when you put it that way…"

"Just give it some time and see how it plays out. And besides, it's not like anyone will _recognize_ you - that's what the masks are for."

They headed down to the main courtyard, seeing a large crown gathered around. Surprisingly, the five rescued legendaries were there. "Good to see you well," the groudon said. "I was worried upon hearing that you may have passed on." His voice, as expected, was low and very deep.

"Nope," he laughed, "I'm here to stay for awhile longer."

"Thankfully," the latias said. "I'm… sorry that I almost got you killed." Her head was lowered in shame.

"I almost got myself killed - had I not attempted to flank that building, I wouldn't have been shot. I should have charged straight in there, but I didn't, and got myself hurt. And as for the shrapnel, that was just chance."

"But I enticed you to come through your dreams," she shook her head, tears welling up, "and you still did, even though you were in no state to do so."

"Wait, you had dream synchronization with him?" the victini asked. "You do know what that means, right?" His voice was much higher pitched, a little bit scratchy.

"…I am very well aware of what that means…" she said.

"You gonna enlighten us?" John asked.

"No," the victini replied, "definitely not - it's not my place."

"Alright then," Wesley shook his head. "As I've said, the five of you are free to go. Given the current situation, if you want, you may return to our headquarters - you'll be safe there. Alternatively, you could join the fight; make sure this kind of shit doesn't happen again."

"What's been going on?" Michael asked.

"Well, legendaries, it seems, are being targeted by the insurgents. As Giovanni suspected, they are draining them of their energy - not trying to convert them. The shaymin line, due to being relatively defenseless, was an easy target. They've almost been completely eradicated."

"An entire species…"

"Gone within a month. Sinnoh special forces have taken the remaining ones in, shielding them from the terrorists. That's what a lot of regions are doing now - only thing is, it's all secretive. No doubt the population would go nuts if they found this out, so they can't."

"Shit… so if they're at risk, why give them the opportunity to fight? That seems like it could put them in worse danger…"

"True, but just like Mewtwo, they could have a part in ensuring that these purges stop."

"Mewtwo?" Michael asked. "Who the hell is that?"

"Ah, forgot to mention - _that_ was the pokémon that helped you during the raid. He was originally created by Giovanni's scientists."

"Ohhh, that makes sense now," Michael said. "Giovanni was shocked about some newcomer before the mission - that was him."

"Precisely. And you see how effective he was in dealing with the insurgents?"

"Yeah, definitely saved my ass back there."

"See my point? The legendaries could be helpful in ending this war, but of course, it's their choice." The coballion stepped forth, head raised high once more, with a proud, noble tone - definitely not the same coballion that was in the video.

"I, for one, would enjoy the chance to end these enemies of ours," he said. "I would say that it's even my duty as one of the swords of justice to do so."

"Thank you," Wesley said. "Your help will be greatly appreciated."

"I feel the same," the zapdos said. "Except my reasons are more so… _retaliatory_ …"

"That's good," Wesley laughed. "We need that."

"Oh? So _now_ eye for an eye is acceptable?" Michael joked.

"Yeah, in this case - I'm pretty sure he won't be settin' anyone on fire."

"That would be moltres," the zapdos said. "But I might make it slow every once in awhile."

"I seriously doubt that anybody is going to give a flying fuck," Kevin said. "Willing to bet that you'll be fine."

"If anyone has a problem, they may consult _me_ about it," the zapdos said.

"I'm sure they won't," Wesley replied. "Anyone else?" The victini shook his head.

"I… would not be very useful for your cause, and I don't think I would want to fight anyways."

"That is fine also. Would you like to be transported back? We could keep you safe and secluded until this is all over."

"…Yes, please."

"What about you, big guy?"

"I am uncertain," the groudon said.

"That's fine - no rush," Wesley said, before looking at the latias. "And you, miss?"

"I need to talk to him," she said, pointing to Michael, "then I will give you an answer."

"Is something wrong?" he asked

"No," she shook her head. "Nothing is wrong, I just wish to speak with him - in private." Michael nodded, then departed from the crowd, the latias following close behind. The two of them walked around the corner of the main building, heading into the alleyway.

"What's up?"

"I… wanted to thank you," she said, "for what you did back there."

"Not a problem at all."

"You risked everything to save me, and it's a debt that I can never repay."

"You don't owe me anything - I'm just glad that everyone's okay."

"But… I do want to ask you one more favor."

"A… alright…"

"If it's okay with you…" She looked down, uncertain with how to continue, seeming to lose her voice.

"Hey," he said, placing his hand comfortably to the side of her neck. "You can tell me."

"Could I… stay with you?" He was slightly taken back at the question. A _legendary_ was _asking_ to join his team? "I understand if you are opposed to the idea…"

"Not at all," he said with a smile. "I was just shocked. I would love to have you join us." She flashed him a wide, adorable smile, embracing him tightly.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you so much." She placed her forehead against his. He couldn't help but notice how soft her down feathers were.

"Do you have a name?" he asked.

"Alaina," she replied.

"A beautiful name - it suits you very well." The compliment seemed to make her croon softly.

"Why thank you!"

"I'm sure you'll love the girls. Come on; let's go introduce you to them!"

"W-wait just a minute," she said, backing up slightly. "I don't think that's such a good idea right now."

"Why not? You'll love them."

"I don't think they'll like me - our meeting wasn't under the very best circumstances…"

"Maybe not, but I don't think that will be an issue - I'm sure they'll understand. It wasn't anybody's fault."

"But what about your leader?" she asked.

"My leader? Oh - you mean the Commander. Don't worry about him."

"He wants me to fight in a war… I've never done anything like that before."

"Don't worry about what he wants," he said reassuringly. "Just do what _you_ want. And besides - you aren't in any rush to make a decision." With a little more convincing, she gave in. They found themselves, once more, in front of the others. This time, though, she had her arm draped over his shoulder - something that seemed to catch everyone's attention. Especially Veronica's, as she fell deathly silent.

"I've decided," she said, "that I will stay with Michael."

"You will?" asked Wesley. "Well I guess that's to be expected after what happened."

"I'm unsure as to what I want to do in terms of this fight," she admitted. "But whatever I do, I want it to be with him from now on." Zeke looked between the two, as if connecting the dots.

"Well that's fine. You just tell us if you come to a decision." It wasn't long before everyone disbanded, going their own separate ways. Before they all left, though, the victini approached Alaina. His eyes lit up; he was telepathically discussing something with her. He shook his head and left. The whole conversation lasted for only a few moments, but it was definitely enough to strike him as odd.

The girls seemed to take well to the newcomer - having a legendary on the team was truly incredible. They laughed and played, Layla at one point even hitching a ride on her around their room. All seemed to enjoy her loving company. All, except, for a certain flygon.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **That's it for this chapter. Over a week in the making, but it was worth it. I do feel that I need to work on my dialogue a bit, though. Still got a _long_ way to go, so don't worry - there's _plenty_ more content yet to come. **

**Emotions are starting to get tense, so be on the lookout - especially for our newcomer!**

 **As a side note, hope everybody stays safe during Hurricane Matthew.**

 **Anyways, please leave a review if you want to share your thoughts or feelings about the story so far. They are always appreciated.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:**

 **Here we are - chapter 6. Mostly dialogue during Michael's recovery, but very important for plot progression. Things are really about to heat up, so be on the lookout for the next chapter.**

 **I don't own pokémon, I don't own any of the products, etc. Kinda wondering if I even need to state this over and over again...**

 **Please leave a review - I'd love to hear your thoughts, suggestions, and corrections.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue  
**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

* * *

 **"The beautiful result often astonishes us when our mind becomes oblivious to the work done with our heart."**

 **-Anuj Somany**

* * *

 **Ch. 6 - Alaina**

"Now that I've got you alone, maybe you'll actually listen," Grace said. Michael subtly shrunk away from her agitated demeanor. "You need to take it lightly for the next two weeks - you are in _no_ condition to be running around, shooting people up, or riding any dragons. You're fine, but you just need a lot of rest."

"Alright, I got it," he said, ready to leave.

"I mean it - if you wind up right back here from over-exhaustion, I'm going to have no sympathy for you."

He left the medical area, still tired from the surgery days before. But it was the middle of the day, and way too early to turn in for the night. And besides, why not use the time to talk to their new friend? A legendary had chosen to become a part of their team, and a very kind, sensitive one at that. The very least he could do was get to know her better. Resorting to a private conversation later outside, he decided to do just that. "So," he began, "tell me about yourself."

"Wh…what do you mean?" she asked. "I'm sorry, I haven't really done this before."

"Talk about yourself?" She nodded. "Hmm, well, what was your herd like?"

"My herd?"

"Yeah, I remember hearing that your species travels in herds on a documentary."

"Mhm. Mine consisted only of my direct family - my father, mother, and brother."

"Tell me about them," Michael said, though not intrusively.

"Dad is very observable, but that's probably to be expected, given that he's the chief representative of our species."

"Chief representative?"

"For the Hall of Origin debriefings. Anyways, he's kind of strict - the 'no negotiations' type. But he has wisdom behind it. Guess that's why he was chosen for the position. My mom's pretty strict also, but more so tradition-based - especially in choosing a mate."

"She is? Please tell me she isn't into all that arranged marriage shit."

"I'm afraid so," she replied. "Always trying to put a latios of her choosing in front of me. I don't think she gets it - I'm not going to nest with someone just to secure social positions." She looked down, writing in the dirt, then looked back at him. "She never pesters my brother about the matter. I'm not her pawn."

"No," Michael said, "no you are not. Back where I'm from, arranged marriages used to be a real problem. Much later than it was in the rest of the world, anyways. Those kinds of relationships are pretty good formulas for disaster."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it sets up the foundations for a very unhappy marriage. If the woman isn't equally in love with the man, then she's got a long, miserable life in store. The feelings need to be a mutual."

"Right," she nodded. "I wish you could get her to believe that, though."

"Sorry to hear that. What about your brother?"

"Myles is… very difficult, for lack of a better word. Brilliant, though. Love him to death, but he _really_ needs to grow up."

"Don't worry, I'm sure he'll mature. Just give him some time."

"I sure hope so," she said. "What else do you want to know?" he thought it over for a second, but then remembered something.

"You said your father was the chief representative. What does that mean?"

"Every two weeks, a lot of us meet in the Hall of Origins. We generally discuss the current status of the world - physical, that is. Sometimes, we discuss major issues with the humans - I'm sure the kidnappings have been a recent topic. I wouldn't know, though, since I haven't been able to attend the last few. Most legendaries aren't the only members of their species. In those cases, an individual is chosen to represent their members."

"How do y'all meet? Who leads them?" Michael was definitely interested in the subject, as it seemed to point towards one individual.

"…I'm not supposed to tell anyone those things…" she mumbled.

"It's because it would interfere with free will, wouldn't it? People wouldn't be acting out of faith if you all went out and told everyone the truth." She stayed silent, looking away out of uncertainty. "I knew it!" he said excitedly. "Society's given a big middle finger to religion, but we aren't the superstitious fools they labeled us as!"

"…You can't go around telling people…" she said.

"Only the girls," Michael replied. "I mean, after all, you didn't say anything."

"I'm serious! Keep it between the few of us. I hope I can trust you to do that…" He cupped her face, turning her to look at him once more.

"You can, Alaina. Don't worry, I won't run around and tell everyone. I just wanted to let the girls know - don't really keep secrets from them."

"You don't?"

"No, not really - I tell them everything," he said. "I'm pretty bad at hiding things, and they'll find out eventually, so it's just better to be straight with them about everything."

"I see." she replied. "And will you be this way with me?"

"Of course - you're with us now."

"Alright. I did want to ask you something about them, though."

"M'kay, go ahead."

"You all seem to have a very… physical relationship. Rarely do I see a time that one of them does not have contact with you. Why is that?" He simply shrugged.

"That's how it's always been."

"Do you mind it?"

"Not at all; I actually enjoy it. I mean, I'm definitely closer to you girls than anyone else."

"Really? So do you mind if I do this?" she asked, lowering onto his lap, placing her hands on his chest.

"N-not at all," he stammered, before embracing her form. "I think you'll fit right in with us."

 **…..**

Being restricted from any serious activity was definitely irritating. The gym was off limits, no sparring with Layla - hell, he'd gladly go on a ride right about now. But unfortunately, he still had a week to go. The girls, of course, didn't mind. They seemed to enjoy him being confined to the house, though they, too, wished to be a bit more active with him. _I mean, my chest is sore and all, but I feel fine. No damn idea why it's necessary for me to stay inside all day…_ He halfheartedly watched the news, Elise dozing on top of him. The glaceon was lying with her back against his, while he rubbed along her side absentmindedly. To anyone who walked in there, it would have looked like the two were spooning. His attention shifted to the television upon hearing the recent news.

"In other news, the recently proposed law to legalize pokémon and human marriages was shot down today in the Johto Senate with a sixty-three to thirty-seven vote. Protestors have gathered here outside the Capitol to voice their opinion about the matter." The chanting of the mixed crowd - consisting of both humans and pokémon - was enough to rattle the windows of the building. It looked as though there were thousands there, holding up signs, yelling, and a few trying to push past the police closer towards the building. Of course, those were typically the ones getting tazed. "Senate leaders are having to be evacuated by helicopter, as the crowds will not let up for the vehicles to pass through, apparently angered by what transpired inside. Here is footage from the earlier debate."

"As we all know, relationships between pokémon and humans have been legal for quite some time," Rafael Caldron, a conservative from one of Mahogany's districts, said. "Sure, times have changed, but this matter was settled _years_ ago. The law states that marriage is considered to be between a man and a woman - _humans,_ that goes without saying." The majority of the Senate applauded his response, though some were turning, conversing to other members of their local areas. Finally, one other stood up - a liberal from one of Goldenrod's dozens of districts.

"That's ridiculous - you can't just discriminate against those mixed couples like this! The law should be amended," said Oliver Carson, several nodding from his district.

"Oh? And you would be the one to decide what is just? The law was created to be an absolute set of rules - not some malleable book of suggestions!" More applause; things were looking bad for Johto's small, but present, left-wing.

"Let's not forget that our region transitioned out of sexism far later than any of the others - wage equality was only enforced twenty-seven years ago!"

"But the law said nothing about those matters," Rafael said. "Those were ideological issues - nearly nothing to do with the system in and of itself. This, on the other hand, is set in stone, and it should not be changed simply to be more "inclusive" as you bleeding hearts put it." Oliver stormed out of the building.

The vote was taken, the majority rejecting any form of change. All of the liberals, some moderate conservatives, and the few libertarian Senators voted for the amendment, but they only made up about a third of the body. Nothing would be changing anytime soon. As they made their way out of the Capitol, the Senators were looked at as though they were monsters. The police protected them, though, from the certain onslaught that would come if they were to let up. One growlithe, though - a young female at that - diverted her eyes away from the leaders, apparently saddened.

"Why don't you fight for your own side for a change?!" A woman from the crowd, accompanied by a gallade. She did her best to ignore them. Michael reflected on what he had seen. He rarely saw eye-to-eye with the lefties, but he could agree with them to some extent here. He wasn't so sure about changing the law - the law had worked out very well for Johto, making them the economic powerhouse of the world with its pro-business policies. It set up its foundations on religion, prioritizing morality. But apparently bias had nothing to do with that…

He saw nothing wrong with the prospect of pokémon and human relationships. He did have an issue with intolerance, but that was being practiced on both sides right now. Nobody wanted to sit down and have a peaceful, open-minded discussion about their views of the subject. The protesters were no different from their polar opposites - all hateful extremities, wanting nothing more than their own way.

Michael had unintentionally tightened his grip on Elise, making the glaceon awaken from her slumber. "Michael? Is something wrong?" She looked at the screen, seeing what was concerning him.

"No, nothing that you need to worry your pretty self about," he said, kissing the back of her head.

 **…..**

Wesley had called them to a debriefing that afternoon, wanting to discuss the situation regarding the capture of the legendaries. Alaina and the other four that they had rescued were there as well in order to provide their information. "Alright," Wesley started, "mind telling us how you were captured?"

"They came to me," the zapdos said. "I had made my home in the plant. One morning, I woke up to find myself in one of those dreadful devices. I have no idea how they trapped or transported me. I apologize that I am not able to be of more use to you."

"No," Wesley said, "that's actually good information - our enemies are likely using hypnotic tactics."

"That is much like what happened to me," the coballion said, "except, when I woke up, I was in an entirely different region."

"That blows. How'd they capture you - butterfly net?" Zeke asked the victini, invoking slight laughter in the room.

"Shut up," he said.

"If it helps any," Alaina said, "I was captured with some sort of ball."

"Oh? What kind of a ball?" Wesley asked.

"I'm not sure, but it felt exactly like being hit by a dark type attack."

"A dark type ball? That's odd…" Wesley made a note of her statement. "Anyone else know anything?" The legendaries shook their heads. "Alright, thank you all for your assistance. We need to discuss our next mission." The legendaries started to leave the room, except for Groudon, who needed to be returned to his ball. Being twelve feet tall _did_ kind of provide mobility difficulties in human buildings. Wesley tossed the ball to Michael. "Take him out, please - he wanted to have a word with you. Must be popular with the legends. Don't worry, not like you're missing anything. Doctor's orders, right?" His comrades chuckled, causing him to roll his eyes and leave.

He walked outside, into the rather vacant corner of the complex, and released Groudon. "Hey there, you wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes," Groudon nodded. "About my ties to this… program of yours, if that's what you would call it…"

"O…okay. Are you talking about your choice to join us or not?"

"Precisely."

"Alright, have you reached a decision?"

"No," Groudon said. "Not exactly. I've found myself in quite a difficult predicament as of recently." He looked up at the sun, then back to him. "For thousands of years I have lived upon this earth. I have watched humans unleash war upon each other with swords and spears, and with guns and bombs. The only thing that's changed is the technology used to do the fighting."

"Yeah," Michael said. "When you get down to it, war never changes. Have you ever gotten involved before?"

"Once," he replied. "One time I did, but it was not my own doing. Thankfully, things deescalated before the world was destroyed."

"You must be referring to that incident twenty years ago," Michael said.

"Yes. The world came very close to desolation that day. Are you familiar with what happened?"

"No, all that's recorded is that both you and Kyogre had a huge conflict."

"Is that what they're teaching nowadays?" he laughed. "Tell me - are you familiar with Teams Magma and Aqua?"

"Heard the names before. They were quick to organize and quicker to disband."

"Do you know what their goals were?"

"No, not really."

"Well, the two were drastically misled by foolish ideologies. Both wanted to upset the natural balance of the earth. Magma wanted to expand the landmass, whereas Aqua wanted to raise the sea levels."

"So then they were like militant interest groups then?"

"That's one way to look at it, yes. They planned to achieve their goals through the utilization of the red and blue orbs."

"Red and blue orbs? What are those?"

"Those dreadful things have the ability to either control others or make them _lose_ control. Obviously, neither of those are particularly good options for the individual they are used upon. The fools that led the two teams sought out Kyogre and I, attempting to manipulate us into doing their bidding. Only thing is, they used the wrong orbs."

"So that's why you lost control like that…"

"And that is also why I want to abstain from this conflict. Nobody knows where those orbs are, and I do not wish to be used as a tool again."

"If that's the case, then just tell the Commander. You are by no means obligated to partake in this war."

"I understand that, but it's not that simple."

"What do you mean?"

"I have seen many humans throughout my life," he said. "Of course, most of them are fairly decent, some better or worse than the rest. You have… interested me. Your courage and selflessness, though a bit reckless, are quite honorable. In that sense, I would not be disappointed in the slightest if you kept that ball." _Really?! Another legendary?_

"But I don't understand - even if I did that, you do realize you are free to stay outta it, right?"

"If you were my trainer, I would refuse to let you go to war alone. If you fight, I would too."

"Oh… so you're saying that because you're technically 'my' pokémon, you would follow me into battle?"

"Yes."

"But you do not want to go to war, correct?"

"No, I do not wish to." Michael nodded; it seemed that there was a simple solution to the problem.

"Seems to me like all we need to do is break the ball, then." Groudon looked at him confusedly.

"You would do that?" he asked. "Your kind… most would go through great lengths to have me under them…"

"But you are not a prisoner," Michael countered. "You are not bound to me by any means. If this ball makes it seem that way, then all there is to do is break it." He dropped it on the ground and stomped it hard, shattering it into dozens of pieces. "There. Don't get me wrong - you're cool and all, but I will not keep you in this position, and I sure as hell refuse to exploit your strength for the sake of fame or fortune."

"…I am grateful for your sincerity," he said.

"No problem," Michael replied, then added jokingly, "and plus, I've already got a legendary."

"Ah yes, the latias, right?"

"Mhm, her name is Alaina. She's very sweet, and she's been a great addition to the family."

"Family… I like that."

"Well, those girls _are_ my family," Michael said. "In all honesty, I've probably spent more time with them than I have my parents or friends. Love all of 'em to death."

After another half an hour, the two went their own ways. Despite his decision, Groudon decided to stay at the base instead of going to the Johto Army's main headquarters. "I'll find some way to make myself useful," he said. "I refuse to accept your all's protection without offering some sort of contribution."

 **…..**

"Layla, come here for a sec," Michael said. He made sure that Veronica was out of earshot.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Maybe, I don't know. Do you know what seems to be troubling Ver?" Layla just rolled her eyes.

"She's jealous, that's all."

"Jealous?" Michael asked, shocked. "Why?"

"She took pride in being your ace, that's why. None of us even come close to her strength," Layla said, "but now you've gotten yourself a legendary."

"But… I never accepted Alaina for battling purposes," Michael said. "In fact, I never accepted _any_ of you all for battling purposes."

"I know that," Layla replied, "and honestly, I think that Ver knows that too. She just needs you to tell her."

"Alright, I'll talk with her about it tomorrow," he said, kneeling down and hugging her. She placed her muzzle under his chin, nuzzling up against him and drawing him closer.

"I don't know if I've ever told you this," she said, "but you're very captivating, you know that?" _What the hell?_

 **…..**

The next day, as they ate lunch in the cafeteria, Alaina leading the conversation, Veronica excused herself. Though everyone else was eagerly paying attention, the flygon was distant throughout the entire meal, barely eating anything, which definitely wasn't like her. Michael decided that this was as good a time as any to talk to her. "Going somewhere?" he asked as he followed her outside.

"Just getting some fresh air," she mumbled.

"Ver, I want to talk to you."

"What's to say?" she huffed.

"A lot. I don't like seeing you so down," he said, placing his hand on her back. "So talk to me…"

"About what?"

"You know what." She looked down, defeated. By the time she was able to met his gaze, she was in tears. "Ver…"

" _I_ was your dragon," she croaked. " _I_ was your ace… but then _she_ came into the picture. No matter what I do, I can't compete with a legendary."

"Ver, do you think that I picked any of you for strength?"

"I don't… I don't know.."

"… I love you because you're _you_ \- not because of your strength. I mean yeah, you wreak havoc on the field - you've won more battles than any of the others by far, and I don't think I've ever seen anyone so adept in the air. But I don't care about that. Never did. All I ever needed was you girls; the battles were never important. Sure, we did great, but all I ever wanted in becoming a trainer was a loving team, and I don't think I could've gotten a better one." She pulled him tightly against her chest. Michael reached up a gingerly wiped the tears away.

"Th… thank you," she sobbed. "You have no idea… how much you mean to me."

"No, Ver - _you_ have no idea how much you mean to me. When I heard that a flygon had been killed back at the Power Plant, my world had fallen apart. All I could think about for that moment was how I'd never see you again - well, on earth at least. If that had been you… I don't know how I would've been able to carry on." He pulled he down slightly, planting a kiss over her nose. "And you'll always be my dragon. Yeah, we may have another in the family, but that doesn't change anything."

"Will you still use me?" she asked. "When you battle?"

"Of course, Ver. Actually, I'd prefer not to use Alaina much." The flygon perked up upon hearing this.

"Wh.. what? Why?"

"Well think about it - she was targeted because she was a legendary. I don't think running around and showing her off would be a good idea - or the right thing to do. I'm not gonna exploit her strength just so I can win battles. So nothing's really changed when you think about it." She drew him close to her face, gently placing her two clawed hands to the sides of his head, trailing one claw down his cheek, as she often liked to do.

"I love you, you know that?"

"I love you too."

From that point, Veronica reverted back to her usual self, fully accepting the latias into their family. "Oh, and just so you know," she said to Michael, "the first day you've regained your strength, we are going riding for _hours_."

"I'll look forward to it," he said.

 **…..**

He found himself in a panic a few days later, fearfully shaking Alaina in a desperate attempt to wake her up. He usually didn't mind any of the girls oversleeping, but when she had not responded to his gentle voice, nor his slight prodding, he began to get worried. Something definitely wasn't right - she seemed to be in a coma. When he sent for Grace to check her out, the gardevoir nurse nervously said that she had never seen anything like this. But her brain activity was _very_ strong, she had said, unusually so for someone supposedly in a coma.

Of course, as they were discussing this, Alaina woke casually, as though nothing had happened, and floated up to him. "Is something wrong?" she asked sweetly.

"No, other than the fact that you scared me to death!" Michael said. "What the heck was that? You weren't responding to anything…"

"Yes, I'd like to hear this also," Grace added. "I mean, if you were simply ignoring him, that's one thing…" Michael cast her an irritated glance, but looked back at Alaina, awaiting a response.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I should have told you."

"Told me about what?" She looked at the gardevoir.

"I'm sorry, but… I need to speak to him alone, please." She huffed, but went on her way. Once she heard the main door shut, she continued. "That's how we do the meetings," she said.

"Meetings?" he thought back, then remembered the legendary meetings. "Oh, right. How is that possible?"

"Those of us who attend are summoned in our sleep - if we're safe to do so, that is. It's easier that way - no matter where we are in the world, we can all come together at that point and time. Of course, those on the other hemisphere have to adjust… Once we're there, there isn't any way to waken us."

"Okay," Michael said, finally deescalating. "You really had me worried there; you wouldn't wake up for anything."

"I'm sorry for worrying you," she said. "I stayed there much longer this time - we were talking about the legendaries going missing."

"I'm sure that was of great concern," he said. "How's it looking?"

"Not very good," she replied. "There has been a great increase in the… deceased population."

"So the legendaries that have _died_ even attend these things?"

"Well, when you think about it," she said, "we kind of _are_ meeting in their home - the Hall of Origins."

"Well when you put it that way, I guess that makes sense."

"Also, I was able to speak to my parents - that's why I took so long in returning. I know I should have told you that I was going to meet with them for awhile… they were worried sick about me."

"I'm sure. How was your reunion?"

"It went well, but Myles didn't come. He doesn't usually attend the meetings. Anyways, they're both surprised to hear that I've gotten myself a trainer now. They're coming in a few days to meet you, actually."

"What?! You're parents are coming over?"

"Mhm, and they're bringing Myles. They want to speak to you."

"Great," he sighed. "I hope they like me."

"I'm sure they will," she said, stroking his cheek.

"But… your mother…"

"I'm sure all will go well… I know you dislike her train of thought, but the conversation does not need to go there."

"I'll be sure to avoid certain topics with her."

"I sure hope so…"

 **…..**

Michael _did_ find one activity that he could do without pissing of Grace. Practicing at the indoor range certainly wasn't a very physically demanding activity, and honing his accuracy was very productive on his part - it could even save his life. Charlotte sat on top of the bench to the side, the ear-muffs very awkwardly postponed over her erect ears. Samuel and Nicole were there as well - Michael had discovered that he came there often, generally once a day. Of course, his accuracy well displayed that. "I don't know why you're so smitten with that thing," he commented. Michael had brought his revolver to practice with. "I mean, if you want a self-defense weapon, why wouldn't you have gone with a semi?" Michael shook his head.

"You of all people know the value of having a reliable gun. Revolvers can't be beat in that sense. And besides - no auto is nearly as strong as a good magnum."

"Let's see," he said, " there's 10mms, .475 Wildey Magnums, .50 AEs…"

"Alright, smartass - I was talking about _practical_ rounds, not two or three dollar a shot rounds that I'll have to spend hours handloading."

"Should've been more specific."

"And plus," Michael continued, "revolvers are more diverse - I can shoot a .38 special, .38 special plus, _and a_.357 magnum in this gun."

"How about you just shut up and shoot the damn thing," Samuel joked.

"Alright," he said, reloading the seven-shot 686 with .38s. "Muff up." Samuel placed a pair of ear muffs over the vulpix's ears, and then one over his own.

"Let's see if you can quick draw it worth a shit."

"Okay." Michael set the target back to fifty yards and placed the revolver in his holster. He looked over at Samuel, awaiting the call.

"Go!" Michael snatched the revolver out once more, swinging it straight out in front of him within the second. He shot once, hitting the target in the upper chest, and continued shooting, drawing down with each shot to counteract the slight recoil of the lighter loads. All of the shots were within a four inch radius, the majority within the head region. "Not bad," Samuel commented. Michael spun the revolver around his index finger, pointing it up and jokingly blowing over the barrel, though the day and age of smoke-releasing black powder was long and gone.

"Alright cowboy," Charlotte teased.

"Cowboy, hmm? And here you have the country accent," he replied.

"Well then I guess that makes me the cowgirl, right?"

"Sounds about right," Nicole said.

 **…..**

They were standing outside, waiting for Alaina's family to show up. The mid-summer heat had become more and more blistering as the month progressed, causing most of the people at the base to opt towards staying inside. Definitely couldn't blame them - a look at his phone that morning revealed that the temperature for the afternoon was to exceed 100℉ (38℃). He gripped the three translators that he had borrowed - he would need them to communicate with the others, unless he wanted to rely on Alaina to translate everything. He didn't, of course - that would be pretty inconvenient of her part. "They're here," Alaina announced, snapping him back to focus. "Myles, don't…"

"Where are th—." A latios suddenly appeared inches before him, seeming to materialize from the air itself. "Oh shit!" he jumped back, almost losing his footing in the process. "What the… hell?" he panted, clutching his chest. The latios smiled, his rhythmic breathing increasing - he was laughing. Two more figures followed suit, both appearing in much of the same manner. Michael handed the VFTs to Alaina, who handed them to her family.

"It's so he can understand you all," she said. They each used their psychic abilities to slip them on with ease.

"That never gets old," the smaller of the two males said. Michael took in their appearances. That one, he reasoned, must've been Myles. Smaller than his father, but still significantly bigger than his sister, he had more burgundy eyes, but a lighter blue coloration. His father, on the other hand, was darker blue and had crimson eyes, seeming very focused on him. The older latias had duller yellow eyes - not near the brightness of her daughter. Other than that, though, she looked very similar. Though she was larger, she did not seem to show any age over Alaina. Michael deduced that the species must have a very long, if not indefinite, lifespan.

"I apologize for my son's… _mannerisms_ ," the other latios said.

"Nah… it's okay," Michael said. "Just took me by surprise."

"My name is Rolland, and this is Helen, my mate."

"Hello," she said curtly.

"And you've already met Myles," Rolland rolled his eyes.

"Hey there," Myles said, extending his hand. Michael reached forth to shake it, but the latios quickly retreated it. "Too slow!"

"Myles, stop being immature."

"Just having a bit of fun," Myles countered. His father simply shook his head.

"Anyways, do you have a good place to sit down and talk for awhile?" he asked Michael, who only had to think for a moment.

"Yeah, I've got a place in mind."

 **…..**

The five of them sat underneath the large oak tree, the front entrance of the base, with its newly paved roads, half a mile away. He sat against the tree, whereas the latis merely needed to levitate as they always did. Alaina, though, lowered herself, sitting beside him. "Alaina's told us all about you," Rolland started. "I cannot thank you enough for saving my daughter."

"Just doing what anyone would have done in that situation," Michael replied. "I mean, I wasn't going to let her just die there…"

"Most people wouldn't have taken a stake to the heart for someone they didn't even know. I want you to know that you will always have my gratitude for that," said Rolland.

"And mine," Alaina said, nuzzling up to him.

"Get a room," Myles said.

"Shut up!"

"Both of you shut up!" Helen said, before directing her attention to Michael. "Anyways, I wanted to ask you about this 'trainer lifestyle.'"

"Alright, what do you wanna know?"

"How you will be treating my daughter," she said. "Often times, you humans take sport in battling. I want to know if that is what you have in store for my Alaina." The others looked at him, awaiting his response.

"Honestly? I was more so dragged into the whole trainer ordeal. Charlotte and Elise wanted to give it a go, and before I knew it, we were taking a league challenge. I had the both of them before I even started battling; I didn't really give it much thought beforehand. Looking back, I think the truly great experience for me wasn't winning gym battles or cash, but spending time and going places with the girls. I mean, battling is fun and all, but it was never the focus." He stroked along Alaina's stiff wing, making her softly hum in response. "As far as Alaina being on the team… I'm not sure what I'm going to do. I mean, if she wants to do it, she can. I refuse to make any of the other girls battle, so I don't see why that would change here. And besides, I refuse to exploit a legendary's strength in the first place for the sake of money or pride."

"So then you will not battle with her?" He shook his head.

"Probably not. I never had battling in mind for her, either. Plus, I think it would be better to keep her low for now."

"Do what?" Alaina asked.

"I think you should remain concealed, at least for the time being. You all are being targeted for being legendaries, so I don't think it would be such a good idea to flaunt you around."

"That shouldn't be much of an issue," Myles commented. To prove his point, Alaina disappeared completely. Michael reached out; an invisible, three-clawed hand grabbed and held his.

"It's an ability we have," she said, reappearing once more. "It won't be difficult for me to remain hidden."

"That's a relief," Michael said. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine," she said, tightening her grip on his hand. "I can very much take care of myself."

"Right," Myles said. "And you got yourself kidnapped…"

"Y'know, you don't seem to be too stoked that your sister is safe…" Rolland said.

"Oh believe me, I'm glad and all, but _damn_ \- way to be careless, Ali."

"At least I'm not a know-it-all," she countered.

"Myles, if you don't leave her alone, I'm going to dragon pulse the absolute hell out you," Rolland said. Myles glared daggers at his sister, who simply shrugged, albeit with a slight grin.

"You shouldn't be so hard on your sister, Myles," Helen said. "Unlike _you_ , she's actually respectful and reasonable. Well, reasonable in everything but tying the knot." Michael froze up - the one topic he hoped wouldn't come up. Maybe it would just trail off… "That reminds me, Ali - I have someone I want you to meet."

"I'm not interested, mom," she mumbled.

"How can you say that? You haven't even met the guy."

"And I don't want to…"

"Why not? He's kind, caring, and —."

" _Because_ ," Alaina said, cutting her off, "I refuse to take a mate that _you_ introduce to me." Everyone fell silent, with Helen seething in anger. _Here we go…_

"First of all, how _dare_ you?" she asked. "Even though I'm looking out for _you_ and _your_ well-being, this is how you speak to me?" Alaina looked at her, tears welling up in her eyes, and finally snapped.

"No, mom - this isn't what _I_ want, this is what _you_ want. From the day I matured, you have been trying to arrange the relationship that _you_ want for me. I'm not doing this anymore - I will settle down with whoever _I_ see fit, not whoever brings you social satisfaction. I am not your doll - your plaything to control." _Oh shit… oh shit… this is really bad…_

"I cannot believe you right now," Helen said through gritted teeth.

"Well believe it. It's _my_ life choice, not yours. Have you even considered that I might not want to settle down with a latios?" Her eyes went wide; Helen looked at her daughter in shock, then at Michael, and back at Alaina.

"You… come with me _now_!" She was barely able to form coherent words, and was trembling in pure rage.

"Oh for the love of…" Alaina darted away, speeding off into the distance, followed immediately by her mother. The three males sat there awkwardly.

"Well that went well…" Myles said. His father shook his head.

"As if. Your mother just doesn't seem to understand…"

"Understand what?" he asked.

"Alaina's fed up. She's not one to be controlled like that. She is going to do what she wants in this case. And you know what? She's completely justified." _Thank Arceus her father is actually reasonable…_ "Wouldn't you agree?" he asked Michael.

"Completely," he replied. "Although, I have to ask - why does your mate seem to think that way?"

"Believe it or not, Helen really _does_ have the best intentions for Alaina with all this. Only thing is, she just doesn't understand that what's best for her isn't an arranged relationship. She thinks that what she has in mind is what's best for our daughter, but in reality, Alaina needs to make these kinds of decisions on her own.

"Agreed entirely. Just as she said - it is her life." He looked off to the side, seeing the faint outlines of the two dragons in the air. They weren't moving, but were levitating in place. Five minutes into watching the two seemingly yell at one another, and he saw the larger of the two point towards them. No, not at the group - at _him_. Alaina turned away and flew back to the group within seconds.

"She… she's trying to force me to come back!" she cried. Michael rubbed her head comfortingly, watching as her mother sped back towards them.

"She wants to _imprint_ on _him_!" she yelled, before turning back to her daughter. "Alaina, I forbid you have anything to do with that human!"

"What? Why?" Michael asked.

"Don't play dumb with me, boy! I should kill you right where you are!" she spat. Instinctively, he cocked the hammer on his 686, pointing it straight at her.

"Well then you better hope you can do it faster than 1,500 feet per second." Alaina started _really_ crying. The two locked eyes, but Helen couldn't help but alternate her gaze between him and the revolver. "There's no need for anyone to get hurt," Michael said. "But Alaina's completely right - you shouldn't try to control her life decisions." The older latias growled, but turned away.

"So be it. Alaina, if you want to throw your life away - and any sense of decency - then that's fine by me. I give up. You two, you know where to find me." Helen flew off, climbing over the clouds, leaving the others. Michael pointed the revolver down, keeping his thumb on the hammer and pulling the trigger, slowly letting it fall, safely decocking it before holstering it once more.

"Look, I'm sorry," he said to Rolland. "I just reacted…"

"You have nothing to apologize for - you resolved the situation very well," Rolland said. "I am sorry that my mate threatened you." He looked over at Myles. "Come on, we're leaving. No doubt your mother's going to be pissed for days." The two of them levitated upward, preparing to leave. Before they did, though, Rolland turned to face him. "Don't worry, Ali - she'll get over it. And as for you," he said, looking at Michael, "take care of my daughter."

"Don't worry, I will." The two zoomed off into the sky, leaving Michael and Alaina to themselves. She held on to him for dear life, still sobbing, albeit more quietly. "Shh, I've gotcha," he said, "let it all out." She held his hand tightly, intertwining her claws with his fingers, and wrapping her other arm around him.

 **…..**

"And come and find out," Kevin said, "the dumb bitch was already seeing _two_ other guys!" The others broke out into laughter.

"Sounds like the one-night stand from hell," Alex joked.

"Not hardly - the boyfriend comes home, she doesn't even know my name, and so he pins it on one of her other fuckbuddies. I just slipped out the back window." Michael shook his head, though he was laughing. "What?"

"Nothing," he chuckled, "nothing."

"What, you against gettin' a little one-nighter?" Kevin asked.

"Honestly? Kind of."

"Why is that?"

"I mean, I just think that sex should be kept more… _honorable_."

"Who gives a fuck? Dude, it's just a bit of fun."

"I dunno man, it seems much better to keep it legitimate," Thomas said.

"Well of course _you_ would say that, ya fascist," Kevin joked.

"I ain't no damn fascist," Thomas said. "Unlike you, though, _I_ have common sense. You need rules for a reason, dumbass. That includes _ethical_ rules."

"Screw you and your laws." He turned his attention back to Michael. "So you're one of those 'abstinent' types?"

"Well yeah, I guess. I mean, I've never really devoted any focus to a relationship. Never have had the time for one, or really even wanted one."

"So then you're abstinent?"

"Well I guess that's how you'd say it…" Zeke shook his head, flashing him a wide, wolfish grin.

"I call bullshit," he said. Michael shot him a questioning look.

"What?"

"I said, I call—."

"I _know_ what you said, but why?"

"Well for someone who claims to be abstinent, you sure as hell surrounded yourself with temptation." Everyone fell silent, looking straight at him.

"Zeke, you better shut the hell up right now," Wesley said, looking deathly serious at him.

"What? I mean—."

"Drop it."

"Fine," Zeke relented, shaking his head.

The rest of lunch, after that, was much more awkward. Everyone spoke little, and they all disbanded somewhat uneasily. Michael made sure to catch up with Zeke after picking up something for the girls. "Do you have something to say to me?" he asked the zoroark.

"Nah man, nothing to say."

"Well it sure sounded like it. What did you mean back there?" Zeke reached his door, but didn't open it right away, casting him a sideways glance.

"Are you being serious with me?"

"What?"

"You can't possibly be this oblivious."

"Oblivious?" Michael asked. "I'm not oblivious."

"Denial."

"Zeke, tell me what's going on."

"Hell no - I'm staying outta this."

"No, you aren't - _you're_ the one that brought it up."

"Yeah, I brought it up. I brought it up because it's such common knowledge - so fucking obvious. How do you not see what's going on?" Michael said nothing, instead trying to comprehend whatever it was he was talking about. "Y'know," he continued, "when I was searching for a partner came across your files, I saw your educational info."

"Okay, so?"

"You were the valedictorian of your class and have an IQ of around 150 - genius level."

"I don't see what that has to do with any of—."

"I guess it just goes to show you how book smarts and social smarts aren't the same thing." He walked into his quarters, shutting the door behind him. Michael left for his own quarters, his mind thoroughly occupied. Veronica was sprawled out on the couch, lazily watching television. He handed her her meal, and placed the others on the table. She sat up to avoid making a mess while eating. He headed to the recliner, but she patted the spot beside her. He took a seat, brushing against her large side.

"Ver, I wanna ask you something…"

"Alright," she said, licking the pasta sauce off her lips.

"Am I… socially oblivious?" She set her plate down, which was something she rarely ever did.

"…You don't want me to answer that…"

"That bad?"

"Well…" She averted her gaze, head slightly tilted.

"You think so?"

"No, I _know_ so," she said. "But don't beat yourself up over it - I blame that damn school you went to. If you'd had time to socialize more, maybe you wouldn't be so oblivious."

"Maybe…"

"But enough of that," she said, lifting his chin up towards her. "You do know what we're doing tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah Ver, I know."

"Good, 'cause there's no way outta this one."

 **…..**

Alaina led him off into seclusion, back towards the corner of the base. Almost where he had conversed with Groudon. The crescent moon was slight, but present enough to illuminate the area. The latias looked around, and concluded that they were, in fact, alone, before focusing her attention on him. "Sorry for dragging you all the way out here," she said. "I just wanted to talk to you alone."

"Alright, is something wrong?"

"No," she shook her head. "Nothing is wrong. Rather, I just wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

"For what you did the other day - standing up to my mom like that. I wish things didn't go the way they did, but there's nothing we can do about that. It really meant a lot to me that you had my back like that."

"I'll always have your back, Alaina. Or would you rather me call you Ali?"

"No - that's my family's nickname for me." She raised a hand to his cheek. "And besides, I very much like the way you say my name."

"Oh… okay. About your mom…"

"Like my father said, she will eventually let it go. She just… really can be controlling at times.

"Yeah, I can tell."

"And she _threatened_ you like that," she said angrily. "But even with a legendary against you, you stood up for _me_. I know I made the right decision in wanting to join you." She placed her hands on his shoulders, nuzzling the crook of his neck.

"Alaina… I did want to ask you something - something that came up when all that went down." She fell silent, but he asked anyways. "What does it mean that you wanted to imprint on me?"

"It means… that I've found the person I want to bond to - the trainer that I want for the rest of my life."

"Is that so?" She nodded, her face flushed red. "Alaina, I'm honored that you would choose me of all people."

"You… would grant me this?"

"Of course," he said, stroking her neck, "but you said that you want to bond with me - for the rest of your life?"

"Mhm."

"Well, I think that's gonna be a lot longer than mine," he said. "We don't live as long as you all."

"That is… resolvable…"

"Wh-what?"

"I can make you like us," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You could be superhuman. Timeless, both in mind and body, with healing capabilities beyond what many pokémon even have."

"Are you offering to make me… immortal?"

"As close to it as physically possible. Just like a legendary." Michael sat down, unable to grasp what she was offering.

"This all… sounds amazing and all… but to live indefinitely? Couldn't that be a curse?"

"Only if you have no one to share that eternity with," she trailed off, tracing a claw down his neck and over his chest.

"Could you… do this for the others?"

"Somehow I knew you would ask that," she giggled. "To answer your question, yes - I can give them the same gift, though the imprint is only for you. But with females, it comes with… a certain limitation…"

"What? Would they be okay?"

"Yes, of course…"

"What would happen to them?"

"Well… for obvious reasons, we can't have a bunch of ageless pokémon running around…"

"You don't mean…"

"Michael, if they accept, they will be made infertile."

"Oh…" They probably wouldn't like to hear that - female pokémon typically prided themselves with their ability to bear and raise children. But now that he thought of it, the four of them had never given an outright answer as to what they wanted in that regard. "We need to talk to the others about this," he finally concluded. "When did you plan on imprinting?"

"Well, if it was okay with you… I was thinking maybe tonight."

"Alright, let's go back and talk this over with them."

In silence, the duo returned to their quarters, having to, unfortunately, wake the four. Veronica never liked that, but never lashed out at Michael if he was the one to wake her. Once they were gathered in the living room, Alaina went over her proposal. If they accepted - the six of them would live indefinitely alongside each other, never aging. The benefits seemed to intrigue them, but the consequence seemed to hit home - especially for Elise. The glaceon had always wanted children, and was now faced with even a more difficult decision than she had upon joining Michael - either she could escape biology and be with her trainer forever, or she could continue her bloodline. The girls concluded, that night, that they would need more time to think the matter over.

"If I'm going to defy the natural order of things," Michael later said to Alaina, "then I want to do it with _all_ of them by my side."

"I understand."

 **…..**

"Are you ready?" Veronica asked.

"About as ready as I am every other time," he chuckled.

"Good enough." He brought his arms underneath hers - the only way he had to hold on to her. She opened her wings, bounded a few steps, and thrust herself off of the ground. He tensed up, as he usually did when they took off, but relaxed when he reminded himself that Ver would never allow any harm to come to him. Upwards they climbed, eventually leveling out about a mile and a half above the ground. "You okay?" she asked.

"Never better." He rubbed her side lovingly, making her shiver slightly.

"Sounds like you're enjoying yourself for a change."

"Mhm."

"Well that's great. Makes me feel better about dragging you up here now," she laughed.

"I'm sure it does," he joked. "Now let's see what they've been teaching you at that dragon program of yours!" She flashed him a playful, yet challenging grin.

"Alright, but remember - you asked for this!"

Just as she had said they would, the pair zipped through the skies for hours. Once he had consciously reminded himself to focus on the powerful dragoness beneath him, rather than the height or swift directional changes, Michael found himself exhilarated with the flight. _Like an unpredictable rollercoaster,_ he mused. This time, their flight concluded when she was tired, hardly able to move another muscle. "Did you… like it?" she panted, the two of them laying side by side.

"Hell yeah," he said. "The way you were going up there, I'm surprised you haven't passed out."

"Not too far from it," she said.

"Why didn't you stop?" he asked.

"Because… I was doing what I love with my trainer," she said. "And that's worth a little exhaustion." He rubbed her neck, gently applying pressure for a light massage. Placing her head on his chest, she hummed in comfort, but within minutes, it gave way to snoring. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, which caused her to smile in her sleep. Michael hugged her against him, watching the clouds roll by as the dragoness dozed on top of him.

 **…..**

The two of them walked through the door, Ver heading straight for the fridge. The rest of the girls were in the living room, staring at him. What drew his attention the most was the sniveling glaceon, with her head tucked underneath one of the couch's decorative pillows. "What's going on here?" he asked. Charlotte sprung up, walking over towards him. He knelt down, and she whispered in his ear.

"We're talking over Alaina's offer," she said. "She's… taking it pretty hard."

"And nobody else is?"

"No, not really. We all like the idea."

"Alright, let me speak with her alone." Charlotte motioned for the others to join her in the back. In a few moments, only he and Elise were within the living room. He took a seat beside her, gently rubbing her back. "Hey girl, tell me what's wrong." She slightly shuffled, but did nothing else. Michael removed the pillow, seeing the tear streaks trading down her light blue fur. "Come here," he said, lifting her into his arms, cradling her. Her whimpering lessened, and he wiped the moisture off of her cheeks.

"Th-thank you," she said. He gently stroked her ear, trailing down and cupping her cheek.

"What's wrong? Did the others—."

"No, it's nothing they said," she replied. "It's just… I don't know what to do… On one hand, I'd love nothing more than to be with you and the others forever, but…"

"You want to have children."

"Y-yeah," she said, tearing up once more. "I… I've just always looked forward to the day that I'd be a mother…"

"I understand," he said. "Most girls do."

"If I go through with this," she sniffed, "I want you to promise me something."

"Elise, you by no means have to go through with this - I want you to know that right now."

"Okay."

"That being said what would you like me to do?"

"If we do this, promise me… that we can adopt." He smiled, the sweet glaceon looking up at him.

"Is that what you want?" She nodded. "El, if it's what you want, we can adopt a dozen pups."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he said. "Y'know, you're going to make an amazing mother…"

"Thank you," she said, nuzzling his chest. "Can I ask you one more favor?"

"You know you can."

"Could you help me… raise them?"

"Of course I will."

The agreement was met, and under Alaina's advice, everyone headed to their beds - or wherever they felt like passing out for the night. The process would be far from painless - Michael knew, though she did not, what would be happening. If they were to become ageless and regenerative, their genetics would have to be slightly altered. The feeling of their cells being ripped apart on the inside would probably be excruciating. The confirmation came when she started with Ver. A loud roar echoed from the back room, seeming to shake the walls. It eventually died out, and he heard no more from her.

One by one, she followed suit on the rest. He had never heard such pained sounds from them, and never wished to again. Their screams struck painful chords in his heart, but they all knew that it was necessary. She finally made her way into the living room, flipping off the light as she passed by. "Are you ready?" she asked.

"No, not really, but let's get this over with." She levitated over him, placing her hands on his chest.

"I know I will enjoy eternity with you - with all of you," she said.

"And I know we will too," he said, bracing himself for the pain that he would surely undergo.

"Here we go." Her eyes lit up, and immediately, his body felt like it was on fire.

"Shit!" he yelled, uncontrollably hugging himself. Every muscle in his body spasmed and cramped up; his bones felt like they were cracking. This was far worse than any pain he had ever felt before in his entire life. She held his hand tightly as the sensation seared throughout his body.

"It's almost over," she spoke softly. _I… fucking hope so…_ His vision blurred, and had he not been laying down, he surely would've fallen to the floor. The pain magnified, then receded altogether. "Now for the imprint," she said. Just like that, a soothing feeling encompassed his body, and he was finally able to relax. The latias floated directly above him, gently settling down on his chest. He blinked in and out of consciousness, relishing in the warmth that she had introduced into him.

"Thank you," she whispered, her eyes finally returning to their natural, golden color. Michael finally fell asleep. "Thank you, _my_ Michael." She drew the blanket over the two of them, and gently pecked him on the lips.

 **A/N:**

 **Next chapter is going to take a little bit longer, as it's got _much_ more content. I'd expect 13,000 - 15,000 words or so. Also one of the few peaks of the story. Who knows? Maybe Michael will finally take a hint.**

 **As a side note, hope that everyone stayed safe during Hurricane Matthew. Nature can be brutal, as seen in Haiti (1,000 dead). Hope that everyone's doing well.  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:**

 **Finally was able to put together this chapter. Sorry it took a bit longer; I've been pretty busy as of lately. But one of the climaxes has finally arrived, making both this and the following chapter some of the more significant parts of the story.**

 **The moment many of you have been waiting for has now arrived. Michael's responses and thoughts will be the entire next chapter.**

 **As usual, I'm not affiliated with Pokémon or any of the products in this story, etc.**

 **If you enjoy reading, please consider leaving a review or a like.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue  
**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue **

* * *

**"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things."**

 **-Robert Brault**

* * *

 **Ch. 7 - Realizations**

John and Zeke approached the guards, disguised as two other soldiers, complete with fake IDs to sell the image. Ever since their last visit, there had been an increase in security protocols - more guards were stationed outside, for instance, looking the two over, as well as their "credentials."

"Good to go," one of the guards stated. Both of them entered into the building, leaving Michael's line of sight. He had been stuck with overwatch duty, there to mow them down in case anything went wrong, providing support for the other two. He wore the attire of his enemies, but lacked any sort of facial disguise - enough to buy him some time in case he was questioned. But Zeke and John - they were the ones doing all the infiltration. Their mission was to slip into the enemies' meeting chamber and bug it, allowing the Reapers to eavesdrop on their conversation. The large influx of traffic into the area suggested that it would be utilized that day, so speed was a necessity.

"From what we could gather from the film," Wesley said, "the meeting chamber should be on the second floor."

"Yep - see it now. John, get the mic."

Though he had no way to see what was going on, Michael reasoned that they had slipped inside and planted the miniature device.

"Come on, let's get the hell outta here." They were out as soon as they had gone in, rounding the corner and heading into the woods. All was well, so they receded away from the building, back to their Chinook. They all took off their gear, taking a seat and listening for the transmission. Voices picked up, growing louder after the sound of the doors opening, closing soon after.

"Here we are - listen up." The shuffling of some papers, the pulling out of the chairs, and the meeting began.

"I'm going to be frank with all of you - things are pretty rough right now."

"No kidding," another said. "All operations on my side have ceased."

"Same - damn CIC's are still all over Lavender, Routes Nine and Ten, and Rock Tunnel. Crawling all over us - can barely go outside without running into them. Not to mention the fact that the Plant's down for good, and with it any chance of finishing off the legendaries." _Finishing off?! They're trying to kill them?_

"All of that will resolve itself in due time," the apparent leader said. "Our problem isn't primarily with the CIC. Tell me, have any of you been paying attention to _where_ they've been striking?"

"Literally all of the worst possible places - the transport system, Cinnabar, Vermillion, the Plant…"

"Yes, but have you noticed any odd coincidences about those places?" The room fell silent, each apparently thinking it over.

"No, besides the fact that they _were_ important spots, I don't see any relationships between them."

"Everywhere the CIC has stepped, there have been Reapers before. The CIC has done nothing but reinforce; _they're_ the real problem. And out of them, you all know who the biggest concern is."

"Grim," several voices uttered in hatred.

"Look Michael," Zeke joked, "you're famous."

"To them, more like infamous," John added. Wesley motioned for them to be silent, and instead listen to the transmission.

"Alright, so what could we possibly do about it? Who fucking knows where those guys are?"

"Simple, actually - we make them come to us."

"Any bright ideas?" an individual with a gruff voice asked.

"Yep - go along with the city seize."

"You're kidding, right? That would take over a thousand personnel, and we barely have any to spare."

"That's why we're going to change things up a bit. We'll alter our demands. Instead of demanding Fuchsia's officials upfront, we demand Grim." _Oh… fuck._

"Doesn't sound like a seize as much as an exchange."

"Don't worry, we'll proceed as normal - right after we take him out. I just figured that this'd be a great way to knock out two birds with one stone."

"So what's the plan?"

"We capture a bunch of civilians, tie 'em up, and start killing 'em if they don't deliver him to us." _Shit… this is really bad…_

"Fine. I think I'll be able to scrounge up enough people for it, but this had better work."

They continued on and on with the meeting, unaware that their words were not only between themselves. The Reapers learned every single minute detail of the plan - from the targets to the stations of the enemies, and what they planned to do with Michael - blow his head clean off for a public display. The invasion would be in three days, so they had to act quickly.

 **. . . . .**

"Here's where their ground forces will be located," Wesley said over the display, which showed a satellite image of the entire city. "They're camped around the outskirts, so more than likely we'll be able to bomb them."

"Alright, that stops the seize," Alex said, "but what about Michael?"

"We're looking into that now. Obviously, civilian deaths need to be kept low, but at the same time, Michael is a crucial part of this team. We need to find a way to catch them unprepared. Any suggestions?" Zeke stepped forth.

"I couldn't help but wonder - Michael, do you know if the latias—."

"Alaina," he corrected.

"Right. Do you know if _Alaina_ will be lending us her service?" He shook his head.

"I'm not sure - we never really talked about the matter. Why do you ask?"

"Because, I've got an idea."

 **. . . . .**

The scene was set; a live feed in front of the city's central plaza, right in front of the gym. The enemies all wore thick, ceramic armor, with purely black skull masks, except for the leader, who had gray streaks in his, and were armed with tripped out MP5s. In front of them were the hostages that they had said they would take - thirty-three, one of which was the gym leader. Her right eye was black, with a large, split gash above it - it was obvious that she had been roughed up a bit.

"This can all be resolved - over the exchange of one man," the leader said. "No one has to get hurt - we have no dispute with the citizens of Fuchsia. Give us Grim, and you have my word that we will release the hostages and be on our way." He pointed his submachine gun under Janine's chin, tilting it up and causing her to close her eyes in fear. "But if you deny us this, they _will_ die, and more afterwards. If you test us, you will fail."

They all were all readying their gear, when the designated CICs came, chains in hand.

 **. . . . .**

He was led to the central plaza, where they were waiting for him. "Nice to see you so… vulnerable, Grim." the leader said. He recognized the gruff voice as the one from the meeting.

"We've upheld our end of the deal," one of the CICs said, "now release the hostages." The leader nodded towards one of the other insurgents, who began cutting the cable ties keeping them bound.

"It's a shame you have to leave so soon," he said while releasing Janine. "It would've been nice to fool around with a gym leader." She spit in his face, and he reeled back to strike her.

"Don't even think about it," the same CIC said with his rifle raised. The last ties were cut, and the civilians were allowed to leave with the CICs.

"Down on your knees!" Michael obeyed, defenseless against his enemies.

"You've been a thorn in our side these last few months, but that's all over now. Personally, I wouldn't love anything more than to see you ripped limb from limb, but we've got a schedule to keep." He and the others took aim at Michael. "So Grim… go to hell." They all shot, and the Reaper fell to the ground.

Or rather, the mirage of the Reaper. The body flickered, then disappeared altogether. While they were still confused, the bombers had begun unleashing hell on the city outskirts. "Shit, we've been duped!" one of the enemies yelled.

"Pull back - into the gym!" They sprinted across the plaza, but several fell along the way, learning the hard way that there was a sniper armed with Barrett M82 amongst the rooftops. Nor did they expect the giant Reaper, armed with his Negev, around the corner of the gym. Before they could raise their own weapons into firing position, he began shredding through them, forcing the few standing enemies around the other side of the building.

"Dammit," the leader cursed, "we're trapped!" There were four in the alleyway, with a fifth running towards them. He never made it - as he neared them, a basketball-sized hole appeared in his upper chest. His eyes rolled back, and he fell face-first. They all raised their weapons, but it would do no good - they were armed for door-to-door combat; their opponents had, by far, the range advantage. Maybe they could just hold this point - after all, if anyone rounded the corner, they would be facing four submachine guns.

But they weren't even that lucky. Two Reapers dropped from the roof of the gym behind them. Both Alex and Michael were armed with Mossberg 590s, blasting the two closest enemies in the heads with the powerful shotguns. Both lost the tops of their skulls, and left only two standing. Alex took the other lesser soldier, while Michael charged forth and slammed the SMG out of the leader's hands. As he fell, Michael blew one of his knees out, making him shout in pain. Michael kicked the fallen MP5 over to Alex, before taking the final enemy's sidearm.

"H-how?" he asked, barely able to form the words.

"A little help from some friends," Michael replied, slamming his fist into the side of his head and making him go limp. He dragged the unconscious body into the streets, where a black SUV pulled up. Opening the back passenger door, he hurled the body inside the caged back and shutting it. He gripped his shotgun, loading another two shells inside it - custom made, depleted uranium slug rounds; able to punch through practically any armor out there.

The armored car stopped by, and he hopped on. Everyone but Samuel was on board - he decided to stick to the rooftops. With the amount of bodies he had stacked up, Wesley had no obligations. "Alright," he said, "everyone listen up. Michael, Kevin, and John - you three will help clear out the northwest sector. Thomas and Alex, you two keep by the coast - they arrived by sea, so they'll likely try to flee that way. I'm sure they'll be disappointed to find their getaway boats in flames. No prisoners - go ahead and kill them all."

Michael, Kevin, and John were dropped off in their respective area. They held their position, ready to ambush the incoming enemies.

"Shit, man," one of them yelled. "Tracy got hit _bad_." He was holding a portable radio in one hand, and was using his other arm, alongside another insurgent, to help move an injured comrade, who had clearly visible third degree burns from the waist down. "You gotta drive over here and get us - he ain't gonna last much longer!"

"We can't!" a staticky voice yelled from the radio. "They're all over us. The truck's overturned, and we—." A loud explosion sounded, as well as a scream, and the transmission was cut.

"Dammit!" He hurled the radio to the ground, trying to pick up the pace with his comrades. "We're fucked!" _Yes,_ Michael thought while aiming at him. _Yes you are…_

For well over two hours, the Reapers traveled around the city, assisting the CICs in taking out what the bombs had not. They cornered them into the pokécenter, which was clear of civilians - meaning they could be as reckless as they needed. "I'm heading around back," Michael said.

"Good idea - flank 'em from behind." He charged forth, about to kick the door open, but was not focused on his surroundings. Maybe if he was, he would have seen the descending form nearly straight above him. Before he knew it, he was flung back, impacting the ground harshly. _Shit!_ He stumbled to his feet, barely able to dodge the incoming blade. It sliced clean through his shotgun. He threw the two useless pieces to the side, withdrawing his dagger and getting a clear look at his opponent. An armored pokémon - a reptilian bipedal of some sort - stood over him, just shy of six feet tall. It had two long, curved blades protruding from its forearm pieces, and a dark helmet.

"Shit, I've got trouble over here!" he said. The pokémon lunged toward him, swiftly bringing its right blade to his knee. He stopped it with his own blade, sending sparks flying off of his opponent's. The other followed, barely impacting his chest and shoulder, but cutting a line in his suit. He backed up, but his aggressor would not let up. They exchanged blow after blow, Michael's suit being torn to shreds in the process. _I'm not gonna last much longer at this rate…_

He spun to the side as the pokémon thrust both blades forward, and, seeing his chance, sliced down as hard as he could. Both of the blades fell, broken from their base. The pokémon glared at the two snapped blades, then released an angered growl.

With it being much more limited range-wise, Michael went on the offensive. With a quick cut to its face, he sliced off the left lens piece, revealing a piercing, soulless yellow eye. He went for another head-level strike, but the pokémon caught his hand. Its hold felt like a vice grip, bruising his arm and making his hand go limp. He dropped the dagger, and was punched in the gut, taking the air out of his lungs. Michael fell against the wall, quickly followed by his opponent. One claw gripped his shoulder; the other was drawn back, ready to slit his throat.

An illuminating flash collided with the pokémon, sending it rolling to the ground. It stumbled, trying to regain its balance on all fours, but it was blasted again. Unable to locate the source of its opponent, the pokémon fled, dashing into the ruins of the city and out of sight. The familiar form of the red and white dragon materialized in front of him.

"Th…thanks," he stuttered. She helped him to his feet, and he retrieved his dagger and broken weapon.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yeah, just a bit dazed," Michael said. "John, how're things looking in there?"

"We're clear now. They're all dead."

 **. . . . .**

"I'm here at the scene of the event, where the city is clearly in ruins. Last night, special forces fought local militants over Fuchsian hostages. According to the previous release from the insurgents themselves, an exchange for the so called 'Grim Reaper' was desired. The exchange reportedly failed, but the hostages were still rescued. Some how, 'Grim' remained unscathed. With me today are both Fuchsia's very own gym leader and mayor. Thank you both for being here." Michael set his ice pack aside, snatched up the remote and turned up the volume.

"Thank you for having me," Janine said. The mayor, however, remained silent.

"So tell us what happened." Before she could respond once more, the mayor spoke his mind.

"I'll tell you what happened - the selfish actions of that Reaper squad cost this city twenty-three lives." _What?_ "Look back at the video - they wanted _one_ person. _One_ person, and they would have left the city. But because they chose his life over those of our people, both Johto and our very own military caused dozens of families agony over dead loved ones. Not only that, but they have turned this city into an eyesore, with billions in damages, blocked off routes, and destroyed facilities everywhere you look. Some heroes they turned out to be."

"You ungrateful piece of shit!" Veronica yelled at the screen. That was the first time he had heard any of his girls use language like that, but nobody seemed to mind at the moment. Janine glared over at him, shaking her head.

"Well now that you're finished with your bullshit, here's what _really_ happened," Janine said, focusing her attention back to the reporter. _Oh snap._ "They came in like a pack of wild animals - shooting people up, kicking down doors, and attacking us. We were beaten, chained, and dragged out into the streets. You can't tell me they meant no harm - nearly all of those people died _before_ the confrontation, not during. Those soldiers were risking their lives to protect this city, and that includes morons like _you_ , mayor. So how about you side with them instead of a bunch of damn terrorists?"

"You go girl!" Charlotte said.

"How dare you talk to me like that?"

"How dare you talk about _our soldiers_ like that? Whose side are you on?"

"The side of my people!" he yelled at her.

"Well that's funny - just about everyone in this whole city is thankful that they showed up but _you_. You're nothing but a stupid, selfish crook, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure you aren't reelected next year." Livid and trembling with rage, the mayor stormed off, cursing to himself. The reporter stood gawking at what she had just seen. In an attempt to assist their speechless colleague, the news anchor moved on to the next segment.

"That was brutal," Layla said. "I mean, she _owned_ him." Michael flipped open his laptop, searching for information on the Fuchsia mayor. Upon clicking on the first result, he realized what he was dealing with.

 _Name: Raymond Bennet_

 _Position: 78th Mayor of Fuchsia_

 _Assumed Office: November 23, 2032_

 _Preceded by: Jeffrey Walker (C)_

 _Born: February 16, 2001 (age 31), Saffron, Kanto_

 _Political Party: Liberal (L)_

 _Residence: Fuchsia City_

 _Alma Mater: University of Northern Saffron_

"Well that explains that," he said with a sigh. "He _would_ be a lefty." That was the day he learned that not everyone was grateful for the sacrifices of others.

 **. . . . .**

"There you go!" Layla said, recovering her balance from his side-kick. She grabbed the rail to support herself. "That was _much_ harder than last time. Actually kinda hurt."

"Are you okay?"

"Of course," she said, rolling her eyes. "Remember, I've taken far worse on the battlefield."

"Can't disagree with that."

"Now brace yourself - I'm done going easy on you!" _Oh, great…_ He took his stance, eagerly watching the lucario for any signs of movement. She sprinted forth, going for a sweep near his ankle. He jumped over her leg, giving her a shove to the ground as he landed. She rolled aside, to her feet once more, and rammed him in the gut. He folded over, but was sent back as she jumped on him, straddling his midsection. He fell back, with her still on top of him.

"She fuckin' rode you into the ground!" Thomas yelled.

"Do you ever step foot out of this damn gym? I swear, it's like you're always in here!"

"Well, I gotta keep my guns strong," he joked. Michael just shook his head.

"Looks like I win," Layla giggled, rubbing her muzzle into his neck.

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Oh, don't be so down - you've come a long way since we started this." She laughed, giving him a playful wink. "But it'll be some time before you truly match me."

"I know," he admitted.

"Now to the victor go the spoils," she said triumphantly, before hopping off of him.

"Oh? And what would you like?" he asked, getting up.

"A ride back home."

"Alright, I'm sure I'll be able to manage." He slipped out of the ring, lowering the cables and jumping to the gym floor. Instead of following suit, Layla hopped on his shoulders, wrapping her legs gently around his neck, and her hands on top of his hair. "Comfortable?" he asked jokingly.

" _Very_. I should ride up here much more often."

"And I'm sure you will."

Once he entered his quarters, he set her down, and took his shirt off. Throwing it into the wash, he couldn't help but notice Layla quickly look away. "Something wrong?"

"Nope, nothing."

 **. . . . .**

In the four months he had known him, Michael had never seen Wesley so elated. The Commander was quickly pacing on the other side of the table, a blatant grin stretched across his face. "This… this is just perfect!"

"What's got _him_ in such a good mood?" Kevin whispered. "I'm thinking he's high on something."

"I heard that," Wesley said, making Kevin stiffen up. "You're a bad whisperer. No - what's got me so thrilled is the fucking mess that the insurgents are in - look at all this shit!" Turning the display on, he showed them article after article - insurgents turning themselves in and disbanding left and right. Some, after interrogation, had even begun giving information - names, in particular. They were scared; that much was obvious. "Eleven hundred of 'em killed in a few hours, and they're scared shitless. Complete anarchy!"

"So… they're done for?"

"Well, not _quite_. But we aren't waiting for the embers to die out, we're going to _put_ them out. So we're going back to Pewter."

"Gettin' pretty fed up with that place," Michael said.

"Me too. So we're gonna tear the place apart."

"Oh…"

"And then take over every damn computer in there. They won't be hiding a thing from us."

"Alright," John asked. "So how many are we sending in there?"

"Just the six of you and a handful of CICs." _Wait, what?_

"Let me get this straight," John said. "You're sending the six of us and some CICs to clear out a building of three hundred people?"

"Yep."

"Don't you think… I don't know, we should have at least a couple hundred if we're gonna storm into the place?"

"Who said anything about storming in there? With what I have in mind, they won't even be waking up."

"So then stealth?" Thomas asked.

"Yes. And you'll get to be a part of the infiltration this time."

"Great," Thomas said, rolling his eyes.

"Relax, you'll do fine. Not like it'll be hard or anything - even with your huge self."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, they won't be able to wake up to save their souls." He pulled up an image of a stout, silver canister. "Boys, allow me to introduce you to Agent Drowzee - a newly developed, odorless knockout gas. A whiff of this stuff, and you're not waking up anytime soon."

"So then we'll be filling the building with this stuff?"

"Pumping it in through the AC, yeah. Funny thing about their base, the main HVAC system is located at the back of the museum… at ground level…"

"So then we kill the guards and throw a few canisters in there?" Alex asked.

"Exactly. They'll never know."

"That's reassuring. We takin' any in?"

"Not a damn one." _Hell yeah._

 **. . . . .**

Alaina wrapped her arms around him, embracing him from behind. "There you are," Michael said. "You got up a bit late today. Another meeting?"

"Yeah…" she said.

"How'd it go?"

"…Not good at all. We're in serious danger… Those men, they want to eradicate all of us…"

"That's not gonna happen - before long, they'll be history. We're tearing their organization apart day by day, one facility after another." She tightened her grip on him, and he knew that she was still frightened by the entirety of it all.

"But what if they come back?" she asked. "What if they regroup? Start over again?" He turned around and faced her.

"Then we'll just kill 'em all over again," he said cooly. He raised a hand to her cheek, and she leaned into it. "I promise, I won't let anything happen to you."

"Thank you," she said. "You're always looking out for me…"

"And I always will." She hugged him tightly, nuzzling under his chin. "Did your parents go?"

"Unfortunately."

"How was your mom?" Alaina sighed, shaking her head.

"Very angry. She's the reason I left so early. Right when the meeting ended, she was all over me."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Michael said.

"She's still upset over the imprint. Dad, on the other hand, is supportive. I wish she would be too, instead of wanting to make my decisions for me…"

"Well, look at it this way: are you happy with your decision?"

"My decision to imprint on you? Of course!"

"Then that's all that matters." He ran his fingers along her white, triangular ear. "It's almost time for me to leave."

"Where are you going now?" she asked.

"Well, I've gotta live up to my title."

"What do you mean?"

"Hell has a few vacancies. Time to fill 'em up."

 **. . . . .**

Finally, he was able to walk through the Pewter Woods without fearing for his life. That didn't stop the curious looks directed at the six of them, but at least they weren't hostile. And they shouldn't be - especially after what was about to occur. With suppressed Bizon SMGs in hand, and several canisters of Agent Drowzee each on their sides, they made their way to the museum base, soon to make it history. The heavy oxygen tanks on their backs made for incredibly dangerous targets if shot at, but if all was executed according to plan, that would not be of any concern. Gazing through the darkness at their unsuspecting targets, the six raised their weapons. Twelve silent shots, and they went down. Alex made his way forward, locating the aforementioned HVAC unit. "There - you know what to do," Wesley said. Alex nodded, taking out his handheld cutting torch. Small, and not much fuel, but it would easily suffice for the purpose that he was using it for. The blue jet of flame leaped out of the small nozzle, and he began cutting a square in the side of the unit. "Be ready with the canisters."

"Alright." Michael and the others retrieved theirs, handing them to Alex upon demand. In but a few minutes, he had installed the canisters.

"Lights out." He flicked all of them on, and they began releasing their contents into the circulating system. It wouldn't be long until the chemicals filled the airways of every piece of shit that called that place their work.

They decided, upon Wesley's advice, to give it half an hour to take full effect. They connected their oxygen tubes to the slots in their masks, soon joined by another six CICs. "Glad you all could make it to the party," Kevin joked.

"Wouldn't miss it for a thing in the world," one of them said. "Especially since it means getting a crack at our ex-teammates." The other five perked up, but Michael had figured that he'd eventually meet some CICs that had previously been members of Rocket.

"Wait just a second," Thomas said, trying to process what he had heard. "What the fuck?" The CICs looked amongst each other, and one simply shrugged.

"Well we had assumed that you knew."

"You didn't tell them?" Michael asked Nate.

"Eh… no, no I didn't. I probably should have informed the rest of your team as well."

"You think?"

"Alright, I get it - my bad," Nate said. "As for the rest of you; I'll give y'all the history lesson later. Right now, there are some insurgents that are in need of getting their brains spilled."

"Agreed," Wesley said. "Go on in - there's a snowball's chance in hell that there's a single conscious person inside that base. Feel free to be as loud as you want." Alex reached for the doorknob, but found it locked.

"Great," he sighed. "Guess they didn't like you all sneaking in and fucking shit up those two times. Give me a minute." He knelt down, fiddling through his tools, looking for some picks. While he was down, Thomas walked forth. A loud thwack made them snap to attention. Thomas put his foot back down, and walked through the broken door frame. "Well… I guess that's another way to do it…" Michael couldn't help but look at the door as he passed though. _Shit… that thing's almost two inches thick…_

They entered the base's main floor, noticing the night-patrols passed out on the floor. The CICs took no time in capping them. "Alright, two Reapers and two CICs per floor, one per hallway." Michael and Alex were assigned the third basement floor, heading down without a care in the world, tailed by two designated CICs. Once they had shot all the guards on their floor, each individual took a hallway.

For well over half an hour, Michael could recall kicking in door after door, staining bedsheets red as the visor on his mask. From the entrance of a single bullet, all that each of them had made of their minds was casually spilled on their pillows. They were less vulnerable than animals led to the slaughter, but he felt no sympathy for them. _Anyone that's willing to sell someone else's body for money has a special place in hell_ , he reminded himself. _And I get to help them find that special place._

When they had finished clearing the building, the cleanup crew entered, removing the traces of Agent Drowzee and the hundreds of bodies. After that, the CIC forces stormed in from their encampment in the woods, flooding the building and extracting every single bit of information they could find. "Well I'd say our work here is done boys," Wesley said after the fact. "Helicopter's ready; it's sittin' at the airport now." Without much to say or do, they left the way they came. The forest seemed to be in a complete frenzy, excitable beyond any point of calming down. Rather than the previously eerie sounds, Michael listened as the cries of jubilation echoed through the night air.

 **. . . . .**

Their missions for the next two months were joyful, albeit in a twisted sort of way. Watching the trafficking market plummet as its participants fled for their lives, only to be killed by a Reaper or a CIC… that was a feeling of satisfaction that he had never felt before.

The Reapers focused on taking out admins, working their way up the corrupted hierarchical chain. Their highlight - a kill that would be laughed about for years to come - was when the second-in-command of the pokémon poaching syndicate attempted to flee the region into Johto. With most of them being natives in a Johto-based special forces unit, they decided that sure as hell wasn't going to happen. They watched his every move on satellite, chuckling to themselves as he fidgeted, running with clear horror on his face, and looking every which way. He jumped into his car and drove off. "Alright, the fool's driving pretty terrified. Samuel, why don't you put him outta his misery?"

"Will do," he replied over the radio. Prone on the mountainside, he had his crosshairs over the road. Armed with his Barrett, all he really had to do was put a round anywhere in the hood of the vehicle, or the tires, to stop the thing from moving. They watched through Samuel's display as he peered through the scope. He was soon staring at the speeding vehicle.

"Alright, just stop the vehicle, and take him out when he—." The shot echoed through the mountains, cutting Wesley off. The vehicle, going straight, gradually slowed to a stop. Only when Samuel zoomed in to where the window once was did they see what had happened.

"Holy shit!" Kevin said. The admin's head was reduced to mere red particles across the interior, with his body still spraying. He had managed to shoot, at over seven hundred and fifty yards away, the man through the driver's window, the bullet exiting out the passenger's.

"That works too."

Building after building, the CICs worked full-time in recapturing hostages. Some had been abused by the trade, and would need treatment, while others had just recently been captured. But needless to say, the market was shut down in a matter of weeks.

 **. . . . .**

"I'm… not exactly sure what we'll be doing for awhile," Wesley admitted. "Our tour isn't finished for another two and a half months. I mean, of course we'll be seeing to it that conflict doesn't arise again, but other than that… I guess all I can say is remain operable at all times, just in case."

They left their meeting; Michael and Samuel waiting as their fire foxes finished their conversation. Nicole looked up with a wide grin, hopping straight up into his arms. "Someone's happy to see me," he joked.

"Of course, love," she replied. "Always."

"How'd it go?" Charlotte asked, positioning herself beside him. Michael draped his arm around her shoulder.

"Pretty good; there isn't much to do anymore. The terrorists are pretty screwed, being hit at all sides about now."

"Well that's good to hear. So you'll be spending more time with us instead of in that damn room or out in the field?"

"Yeah, I'd say so."

"Great. In that case, can I getcha in two days?"

"You know it."

They headed back; Michael noticing that the vulpix was constantly nuzzling up to her trainer. _Just like Elise,_ he thought. As soon as he walked into his quarters, Charlotte had taken the opportunity to ask him. "What did you think of that?"

"Think of what?"

"Sam and Nicole."

"What about them?"

"You can't be serious… didn't you see the two of them?"

"Yeah, I _was_ right there," he defended.

"And didn't it strike you that they were all over each other?"

"Yeah, they were being a bit affectionate."

"Exactly," she said.

"So?"

"For the love of Arceus," she muttered. "Michael, they're _together_."

"Wh…what? You can't be serious."

" _You_ can't be serious - how the hell couldn't you see that? Did they have to start making out for you to get it?"

"…Well, I mean they—."

"Michael, love ya to death, but you're unbearably naive in matters like this." He shook his head.

"You know, I would really love for people to start telling me the things I'm missing instead of simply stating my obliviousness and leaving it at that. And besides," he added, "there isn't any proof that they're in a relationship."

"I'm willing to bet you anything if you simply go down the hall and ask, they'll tell you. But the thing is, you shouldn't need to do that - their actions should've told you _something_."

"Not really - I mean, you girls do that kind of stuff to me all the time." She froze up, as if realizing that she had brought up a taboo subject, and retreated to the back of the house.

 **. . . . .**

His curiosity eventually was sated. The six, having nothing to do the whole week, sat in their lounge, playing poker at the large round table. The television was abuzz with the latest politics, though they weren't paying much attention to it.

Or at least, until the story was shifted towards the newly developing militant interest group.

"Seemingly overnight, a new interest group has developed in the heart of Johto, known by its members simply as "The Assembly." Garbed in all red and united against proponents of pokémon-human relationships, they have already led two violent responses to protests, killing four humans and six pokémon in only two days."

"Damn," John said. "Sounds like they've got it out for those people."

"Yeah…" Michael said. "I know the protestors have been assholes lately, but I don't think they deserve to die or anything…"

"No," Kevin replied, then added jokingly, "what do you think, Thomas?"

"I honestly don't give a fuck," he said.

"Really?"

"I mean, I personally wouldn't kill 'em, but I could care less what happens to a bunch of perverts." The game stopped, everyone unable to focus on the cards.

"You think that they're sick in the head?" Samuel questioned.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I mean, it's just… not _normal_."

"Not normal?" Samuel asked.

"No, definitely not. I mean, don't _you_ think it's sick? Pokémon are definitely the foundation of the world, but a relationship between them and humans?" He shook his head. "Just like bestiality, if you ask me. Wouldn't you agree?"

"No, I wouldn't. Yeah, they may look _somewhat_ similar, but they aren't just a bunch of mindless beasts. They have minds equal to our own."

"Well, I wouldn't fully say _equal_ …" Thomas countered.

"Actually," Michael stepped in, "they have every bit as much of a consciousness as we do."

"How do you know?"

"He has his degree in biomedical engineering," Alex said, " _and_ graduated top of his class. I think he knows a thing or two about anatomy."

"It does kinda play a role in bio-med, yeah," he joked. "But seriously - the brains of pokémon and humans are almost identical, ignoring the shapes. Genetics are also close enough to reproduce fertile offspring, so I wouldn't call us that different at all."

"Except for the fact that they have powers, and we actually have intelligence."

"Intelligence? I have yet to see any of them that are dumb."

"I have yet to see any of them build civilizations - I mean _damn;_ they're living in dens and caves. You'd think that if there were any of them even nearly as smart as us, they'd have made something notable."

"There are pokémon villages that've been discovered around the world. I remember seeing one on a field trip back in Kalos. When you think about it, shelter really is only necessary for keeping out the elements. I don't think that's really an issue for them, since most of them can _control_ the elements. And plus, there are psychic types at the universities nowadays."

"Those are cute points and all, but I still think they should stick to their own, and we should stick to our own."

"Well if that's your opinion," Samuel said, "you're entitled to it."

"Of course," Thomas said, rolling his eyes. "But I can't understand why y'all were so quick to defend relationships between the two. I mean, it's not like any of you are into that shit." He took a swig of his soda.

"Speak for yourself," Samuel said, catching everyone's attention, and almost causing Thomas to choke on his drink. "Wh…what?!"

"You heard me."

"You mean to tell me…"

"Yep." _No way… Charlotte was right…_

"I can't believe it…"

"Well I can live with that."

" _You_ of all people? I just don't understand…"

"What's not to understand?"

"…I just wouldn't expect you of all people to betray your race like that." Samuel slammed his fist on the table. Though Thomas was by far the strongest of the six of them, Samuel struck with force enough to scare all of his comrades.

"And I wouldn't have expected you to be such a fucking asshole! Betray my race?! Are you even listening to yourself speak? I haven't betrayed anybody!" Thomas tried to speak up in his defense, but Samuel wouldn't let him. "No, I'm not betraying anyone by loving Nicole, and I'm definitely not some pervert for doing so. I love her because of her personality, not because I'm sick in the head." He stormed off to the door, flinging it open, but stopping in the doorway. "I know you could easily hurt any of us in here… but if you _ever_ call Nicole or I sick again, I will beat the ever living hell out of you." And with that, he was off, leaving his stunned comrades and a dented metal table behind him.

 **. . . . .**

Michael sat beside Samuel, who was trembling. He had made his way as quickly as possible to his quarters, where Nicole was quick to console him. He clutched the vulpix for dear life, holding her against his chest. "Shhh," she whispered, "it's okay."

"So fucking full of shit," he muttered. "And it made no sense, either. He seemed to be shocked that there were opinions other than his own."

"That's the way it usually works with the closed-minded people," Michael said, a hand comfortingly on his back. "They may teach tolerance, but in reality, they're only tolerant to views similar to their own. The Kalos political mindset was the manifestation of that principle."

"Really?" Samuel asked.

"Hell yeah. Over there, a 'centrist' was still pretty fucking liberal. Socialism was favored by way more of their politicians. 'Liberalism is the embodiment of tolerance' they would say. But when a few of us had more right-winged ideologies, they looked like they had seen ghosts. And when two _conservatives_ placed the highest in their university, they didn't know how to react."

"Heh, probably didn't with how brainwashed they've become. They've done a good job of fucking themselves over."

"Yeah," Michael sighed. "I used to hate them and their ideals so much. But as I really looked at what was happening, I was filled with nothing but sadness. It isn't their fault - or at least, not completely. The vast majority of them are simply products of their environments - their parents were this way; their peers were this way, and their leaders were this way. So they damn well sure weren't gonna step out of line. The first to blame were the generations before them that voted on those crooks to go into office in the first place." He turned to face Samuel. "Always remember that - sometimes, the intolerant are simply reflecting the only things they've ever known. And in your fight against prejudice, make sure that you don't become the very thing you despise. Look on the news, for instance. Riots for and against pokémon and human relationships are springing up all over the country. When you look at the people participating, you often see nothing but hatred for the other side."

"That is true, I guess," Samuel replied.

"A tolerant person can have their own opinions, but they can't simply shut out someone else's just because they dislike them. And that's a possibility regardless of your side of the spectrum."

 **. . . . .**

After he had informed the girls about what had happened, Charlotte seemed to be gloating somewhat. "Go on; say it," she prodded.

"Okay, you were right," he sighed.

"And don't you forget it." _Ugh, cocky little fox…_

"I'm sure you won't let me anytime soon. I was definitely surprised at first to hear it, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense."

"What do you mean?" Layla asked.

"Well, she _was_ the one to break him outta his shell. She's the whole reason he even talks. And he saved her life. I guess there was something there to from the start - with both of them." He trailed his fingers along the cyan dangles of the glaceon in his lap, eventually stroking her chin. She gently gave his hand a love bite, rubbing against his forearm.

"I think they make an adorable couple," Charlotte said. "I mean, opposites really did attract. He's very reserved, and Nicole's so peppy and outgoing."

"Yeah," he said. "I just really hope this doesn't mess things up for the Reapers…"

"…A relationship could be troublesome?" Alaina asked. "I understand that maybe not all of you support it, but what could the harm be?"

"Well, I'm not exactly sure how the Commander would feel about relationships while on duty - especially with the very pokémon that he shares a room with."

"I see," she replied. "But I guess the only way to know for sure is to ask him, right?"

"Yeah, I guess." _Ha, like I'd have the nerve to ask him something like that._

 **. . . . .**

"You did great up there," Veronica said, Michael laying against her side. They had undergone a much more eventful flight, composed of her newly learned maneuvers.

"Thanks." He rubbed her neck, and she draped her tail over his waist.

"Mmm, that's the spot." _Funny - she's fearsome and all on the battlefield, but scratch her neck and she becomes as docile as a hatchling._ "Ah, down a little more." He laughed, shaking his head, but did as she wished. He accidentally went too low, though, and rubbed the crook of her neck. "Ahh!" she moaned, shooting him an accusative glare. "What've I told you about doing that?!" Her face was flushed with a prominent blush.

"Sorry Ver, didn't mean to."

"Please… _please_ watch your hands."

"Alright, alright." He almost withdrew from her, but she interfered.

"That doesn't mean stop."

"Oh, okay." He continued as she closed her eyes and relaxed, craning her neck to lay beside him. He chuckled to himself as he say his reflection in her red protective lenses.

"What?"

"Nothing - your eyes."

"Oh? Do you like what you see?"

"Of course," he laughed, stroking her cheek. She swiftly pulled him closer, hugging him tightly and giving him a lick to the cheek.

 **. . . . .**

That week had been wonderful… up until Saturday afternoon. Spars with Layla, the lengthy process of brushing through Charlotte's dense tufts of fur, and daily flights littered about the week. He had spent much time with Zeke, too. "I swear," Alex commented as they headed back to their quarters. "The two of you are always hanging out."

"Feeling like you've been replaced?" Zeke joked.

"No, I'm just curious."

"What about?"

"Well, if you're so taken to him, why don't you become his pokémon?" Zeke looked at Michael, but shook his head.

"Nah man - some birds aren't meant to be caged. Plus, his other pokémon scare the hell outta me."

"They do?" Michael asked.

"Hell yes! I mean, think about it - a massive fucking dragon with a temperament, a fighting type, a legendary, and don't even get me started on that braixen. Damn, she doesn't play - I saw you two practicing those fire attacks. The only one that I think I could take is that glaceon, and even then I'm not so sure."

"Well yeah, they're all strong, but they're all sweet, too." As if to counter him, an echoing roar seemed to shake the walls of the hallway.

"You were saying?" Zeke said.

"Shit, something must be wrong!" He hurried to the door, running inside. There was enough yelling on the part of the flygon that nobody heard him enter or close the door. Charlotte, Layla, and Elise were on the couch, the glaceon crying and the lucario cupping her face.

"You deceitful little shit - how dare you?!" she roared. Though Alaina was the legendary, she trembled in the corner. From the looks of things, Giratina himself would probably be frightened by the infuriated flygon. "We trusted you, and _this_ is what you've done?!" The latias was sobbing, and made eye contact with her trainer.

"Michael…" she whimpered.

"Don't even speak to him you bitch! The only thing you should be saying is an apology!"

"Veronica!" he said, but his voice fell on deaf ears.

"You want me to be sorry?" she cried. "For what - not simply waiting around for something to happen like _you_?"

"That's it! I'm gonna tear you into pieces!" she roared. Michael ran in between the two of them.

"Ver, stop it!" He grabbed her hand; she was shaking in rage. "Would any of you all mind telling me just what the _hell_ is going on here?"

"She lied!" Veronica yelled, pointing a claw at Alaina. "She's wronged you in the most despicable way imaginable! I knew I was right in disliking her!"

"You had no right to pull that kind of trickery," Charlotte added.

"I—."

"Shut. Up. You've said enough - unless you want to tell _my_ trainer what _you_ did," the flygon said through gritted teeth. Alaina's head dropped, tears streaming down her face. The legendary was visibly ashamed, but stayed silent. "Pathetic," she said menacingly, also starting to tear up. "Just pathetic!" She stormed off to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Michael walked up to the distressed latias.

"Hey, are you alright?" She nodded, but still remained quiet. "Are you gonna tell me what all of this is about?" When he received no response, he assumed that she wasn't going to be the one to break the news. "Is _anyone_ gonna let me know?"

"It's… not our right to do so," Charlotte said.

"Great," he sighed. "Well, let me go calm her down before she tears the place up." He dreaded going back there, fearing what he might see upon opening the door. What he did see, though, didn't scare him as much as it broke his heart. The proud flygon was sobbing into the pillow, her tail wrapped around her midsection. He sat on the side of the bed and rubbed her back comfortingly. "Ver, tell me what's wrong…"

"I… I can't," she mumbled.

"Why not?"

"Groudon forbade me."

"Oh? You spoke to Groudon?"

"Yeah," she said, "he was the one that brought this… lie to my attention."

"But why can't you tell me?"

"Because… he said it was a matter between you and… that _latias_." She said the last words with a clear venom in her voice.

"Alright," he said, "I'll try and get to the bottom of this myself." He stood up, but she stopped him.

"Wait," she said. "Can you please stay here with me? At least for a moment?"

"Of course," he said. He continued to rub her comfortingly, and it was only a matter of minutes before she was out. He quietly left the room, closing the door behind him, and walked back towards the living room. He heard the ongoing conversation, and, against his better judgement, he decided to eavesdrop for information.

"But you _do_ need to tell him!" Charlotte snapped.

"It wouldn't be right to keep him in the dark like this," Layla added.

"I… I don't know if…"

"You better break the news to him quickly!" Charlotte said.

"And then what?" Alaina asked. "Naturally, he's going to wonder why the four of you were so mad. Once he knows _my_ secret, he's going to find out _yours_."

"I… I hadn't thought about that…" Layla added. "Oh Arceus…"

"How could you do this?" Elise asked. "This is going to get us all in trouble!"

"I wasn't thinking at the time," Alaina said quietly. "I promise, next time something like this—."

"There won't be a next time!" Layla yelled. "Once he finds out, he'll release all of us!" Michael figured that he'd heard enough, and decided to walk in before another fight broke out.

"Everything okay in here girls?" They each stiffened up upon hearing his voice.

"…No… and it probably never will be," Layla said, storming off into the other room, quickly followed by Charlotte. Elise followed suit, but paused beside him.

"Please," she begged, "please don't make us leave…" He knelt down level to her and embraced her.

"I promise, I would never do that," he said.

"I… I hope you don't change your mind about that…" And with that, she too was off.

"Alaina… please…" She refused to meet his gaze, not uttering a word. He took a seat on the couch. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" More silence. "Alright… Well, whenever you're ready to talk, I'll be right here."

 **. . . . .**

But as he found out the next few days, no one was ready to talk. The liveliness of the girls had vanished; they all kept to themselves. Michael had to practically beg Veronica to eat, so he knew something was horribly wrong. And none of them wanted practically anything to do with the latias; Elise was the only one who would even acknowledge her presence. _I've got to get to the bottom of this somehow,_ he thought. He decided to look around for Groudon - he surely knew something about the situation. After all, he _was_ the one to inform Veronica in the first place about whatever it was that pissed her off so badly.

"Sorry to say," Wesley told him upon asking, "but he's been transported back to HQ. Barely missed him. He'll definitely be useful there - he is one of the strongest pokémon in the world, after all." _Shit… That doesn't help…_

He returned to his now dreadful quarters, where the deafening silence was still present. Veronica had gone out for a flight to "clear her head," while the others were silently about their own business, none of them speaking a word to him. _Have I done something to upset them?_ The way they were acting, they all seemed pissed with the world. "Where's Elise?" he asked upon not seeing her there.

"In her room," Charlotte said. He went back to check on her. He could see the glaceon's form underneath the bedsheets. He would've assumed that she was sleeping - had he not heard the sniffling underneath.

"Hey," he said, placing a hand on her side, "please don't cry." He gently removed the sheets, taking a seat beside her and bringing her into his lap.

"O-okay." She wiped burrowed her head into her paws, wiping the tears away.

"There, that's much better. I don't like to see your pretty face covered in tears." She blushed, nuzzling into his shirt. "What's got you all so down lately?" he asked.

"You're going to find out," she said quietly. "We went too far… and now… now we'll get busted…"

"But what are you so scared of? I've never kept secrets from you girls; why are you all keeping me in the dark?"

"This is much different," she said.

"How so?"

"You… I don't think you're going to like what you find out… Whenever Alaina actually talks, that is…"

"Have you girls done something too?" She said nothing, but nodded.

"Ellie, I'm not gonna be mad at you. I just… I just want my girls back." But she wouldn't tell him, and instead, ended up crying herself to sleep on his lap.

 _None of them seem to want to make this easier… They're set on keeping silent about the matter._ He traced the large, dark blue diamond on her back, thinking about what the dozing ice type could possibly be withholding. _Why? Why won't they tell me? Do they think that I'll be angry? I've never been mad at them before…_ Listening to her steady breathing, he felt the now peaceful rising and falling of her chest.

 _I hate seeing them so depressed, but they won't do anything to resolve the situation._ That's when he got the idea. Recalling the zoroark's words, he remembered that there were others that had information that could help him in this regard. _Maybe… maybe I should ask Zeke. He seemed to know something about the girls and I, so he would definitely be a great source to ask._ Coming to the conclusion that nothing could be worse than what was going on at that time, he delicately moved Elise over, leaving the room. Upon arriving in the living room, he found that Veronica had finished her flight and had returned.

"Wh…where are you going?" Elise asked, starting him. Apparently, he had failed in keeping her from waking.

"I'm going to go talk with someone," he said.

"Why?" Veronica asked. "It's eight at night. Why not wait until tomorrow?" He shook his head.

"No, it can't. I can't sit here and watch you girls beat yourselves over something that you all won't even tell me about. If I can't get information here, I'm going where I _can_ get it."

"Oh Arceus," Charlotte cried. But he did not comfort her; rather, he left, knowing that the sooner that he put this situation to rest, the sooner they would be back to their normal selves. Only, as he would find out, things would never go back to the way they were before.

 **. . . . .**

"Ah, there you are!" Michael said upon finding the zoroark he was looking for. "You're hard to find, y'know that?"

"So I've been told," he laughed. "Typically a useful trait for a zoroark." He had managed to find him twenty feet above the ground, sitting on top of the southwest corner of the concrete wall. He had appeared to be looking at the full moon, which bathed the base in silver hues. He leaped to the roof of the housing building, then used the window frames to quickly descend to his level.

"That was athletic," Michael commented. Zeke responded with a mock bow.

"So whaddya need?"

"I need to talk with you about something… something that's been troubling the girls for a bit."

"I'm gonna stop you right there - I want nothing to do with you and their personal issues."

"I need to know—."

"Don't care, not speaking about it."

"Why not?" Michael asked. Zeke laughed lightly.

"Your braixen may or may not have threatened me if I opened my mouth," Zeke said. "I know I've told you this before, but that vixen is _scary_."

"She won't find out - if it's such an 'obvious' matter, then there could be six others that told me."

"True… but I still don't want to get involved…"

"Zeke, please. The girls have become depressed this last week. They won't speak, they've shut themselves away - hell, they're hardly looking at me. I can't stand seeing them like this, but they won't break the news to me. This needs to stop." The zoroark looked at the ground, pondering his next course of action.

"Alright, fine," he said. "But under two conditions."

"Go on."

"One, we move to the other side of the base. I don't want there to even be a tiny possibility that they might hear me."

"Fair enough." They made their way away from that section. "What's the other condition?"

"Dude, I cannot stress this enough - do _not_ even mention my name to any of them. I am pretty sure your braixen would burn all my fur off."

"That might be funny to see."

"Oh, well then have fun learning this shit on your own… if you ever do."

"C'mon dude," Michael said, "I was just kidding. I would never throw you under the bus like that."

"Alright…" They reached their destination - they couldn't possibly be any further from the girls without going outside the base. "So, fill me in on what's been going on lately."

"That night we heard all the yelling - that's when it started. Veronica was completely livid with Alaina over something. Said that she 'wronged me,' and almost attacked her. I've never seen her that mad in my life."

"What did Alaina do?"

"That's the thing - I don't even know. She won't tell me." He thought back, wondering what she could have possibly done to him. Not a thing, right? Well there was _one_ thing. "If I had to guess, it might have had something to do with her imprint."

"Imprint?"

"Yeah, something about forming a bond with me."

"Huh, you've got me beat on that," Zeke admitted.

"It doesn't make any sense. Veronica said that she had talked to Groudon, and that he had called something to her attention about the matter, but she refuses to tell me, saying that it was something that Alaina would have to talk to me about."

"Damn, so they've all gone secretive on you?" he asked surprisingly.

"Yep. I think it's because they're scared that I'm gonna find out whatever their secrets are."

"Why is that?" Zeke asked.

"I may have… eavesdropped on one of their conversations. They were trying to get Alaina to fess up. She mentioned that if I would learn of her secret, then I would wonder why the girls got so angry, and then learn about their secrets." Zeke nodded.

"I see, so you're hoping that you can work your way backwards? By finding out their secret, you'll get towards finding out Alaina's?"

"Yeah, kinda," Michael said, shrugging. "I mean, I have nothing else to go off of."

"Understood."

"So what are the girls hiding from me?" Michael asked. Zeke seemed to look perturbed, but eventually spoke up.

"Well what do you think?"

"Dude, I have no damn clue. That's why I'm asking."

"You must not know them as well as you think you do." Michael was shocked; no one had ever said anything of the sort to him.

"I know them better than I do my own family. I've spent nearly every single day with them since they joined me."

"I'm telling you, you don't know them fully - not what they want."

"W…what?" Michael reflected on the time they had spent together. He had tried to do everything in his power to make them happy, conquering his fear of heights for Veronica and getting beaten and bruised by Layla, to name a few examples. "What are you saying?"

"I know I've told you this before, but _damn_ dude - you really are oblivious. You mean to tell me that you have never, say, noticed the looks they've given you? The way they speak to you? Hell, even the way they touch you?"

"Well, of course I have. We're really close, after all. They're my best friends."

"And that's how you view them?" Zeke asked.

"Yeah… how else would I view them?"

"Did you ever think that maybe that feeling was only one way?"

"You… you think they don't like me?" He was definitely hurt by the what he had assumed that Zeke had meant.

"No, moron," Zeke growled. "Literally the opposite. They love you."

"I know that, we—."

"Shut the hell up." Michael stayed silent, slightly unnerved by the zoroark's more hostile demeanor. "They _love_ you, Michael. Much more than a pokémon loves their trainer." _They…. what?_

"You… you can't be serious…"

"Arceus, I've seen it dozens of times. The way they act towards you makes it clear as day."

"…I don't believe this… Are you bullshitting me?"

"Are _you_ bullshitting _me_? They're all over you every chance they get!" And thinking back to it, Michael couldn't refute him. If one of the girls was with him, odds were they were making some sort of contact with him.

"…Shit… Which ones?"

"What?"

"Which girls… feel this way?" Zeke laughed, shaking his head.

"Damn you're blind…"

"Alright, we've established that. Now which ones feel that way?"

"Pretty sure all of them." _Oh… shit…_ Michael tried to compose some sort of argument, something to reach another conclusion. But no matter how hard he tried, he could no longer ignore the reality of the situation.

When he had finally come to terms with everything, he left Zeke to himself, leaving for his quarters. He paused outside the door, feeling as though the very friends he had kept for three years were now completely unfamiliar to him. Hearing the voices inside, he knew that they were arguing, surely over the matter with Alaina. Gripping the doorknob tightly, he slowly turned it, opening the final barrier to the inevitable confrontation. Everything went silent, the shutting of the door being the only sound in the atmosphere. Michael kept his eyes to the ground as he walked inside.

"You're back…" Elise said her voice barely above a whisper. He looked up at them; they teared up, and he could see it in their eyes. They knew... that he knew.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **That concludes the seventh chapter. About 90K words into this story, and we've still got a _long_ way to go. On one hand, that means a ton of new content, but that also comes with more reading. With that, I'm always in need of suggestions and corrections. So please consider leaving a review.**

 **Be on the lookout for the next chapter!  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:**

 **Sorry for the long wait! College applications are a real bitch. One of the chapters you all have been waiting for is finally here! Now, that doesn't exactly mean lemons (yet), but they're on their way. As a side note, finally hit the 100K word count mark!  
**

 **I'm not associated with Nintendo, Game Freak, etc. etc.**

 **If you enjoy reading, or want to submit a character idea, please consider leaving a review. In terms of characters, that does not mean that I will be able to utilize all ideas, but I'll do my best.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

* * *

 **"Happiness can exist only in acceptance."**

 **-George Orwell**

* * *

 **Ch. 8 - Acceptance**

"Please," Elise begged, with her ears drooping, "please don't be mad…" Veronica kept her eyes glued to the floor, unable to look up at him.

"Wh…what all did you learn?" Charlotte asked.

"Just about all of it…" Silence prevailed in the room, the only sounds being whirring of the fan and the occasional sniffle. "Why didn't you girls tell me?"

"I… I just thought that you…" The words died in Charlotte's throat.

"Might be upset?" Michael interjected. The braixen nodded.

"…Or even repulsed…" Layla said. "You… mentioned that you were fine with the relationships… but we weren't sure if you were opt to try one yourself…"

"I see…"

"How… do you feel?" she asked.

"How do I feel?"

"About what you've learned."

"I'm… disappointed… and even a little angry…" The lucario lowered her head, her eyes squeezed shut and tears seeping out.

"Oh…"

"But only in myself," he added. "I… didn't see. Didn't see what you girls were trying to tell me all that time. And yet I even _returned_ your gestures. I… I'm sorry… This is all my doing…"

"You… are not upset with us?" Veronica asked. "E…even after finding out?"

"No," he shook his head. "I'm definitely not mad at you all. If anything, I'm actually kind of flattered that the five of you feel this way."

"R…really?" Alaina asked.

"Yep."

"Why… would you say that?"

"Because, each one of you is beautiful both inside and out. I… don't know what to do right now, or even where to begin… but I know that to be true. Although," he looked over at the latias, "now that the cat's outta the bag, I do want to know what it is that you did…"

"Okay, she quietly said. "But please… let it be in private."

"Of course - in fact, I would like to speak to _all_ of you in private. I'd like to be filled in on what I've apparently been missing all this time. That sound like a good idea?"

"Yeah…" they all said in unison.

"Good, then we'll start tomorrow. For the last week, you all have been pretty stressed out, so I want all of you to get a good night's rest. We've got a hell of a lot of stuff to talk about…"

 **…..**

It was decided that the latias would go first - after all, the discovery of her action directly led to this situation. With the promise of seclusion, she assured him that she would be more revealing. "Look, I'm not gonna force you to talk by any means," he assured. "But I would like to get to the bottom of this. Find out what got everyone so riled up, and how we can put an end to it."

"Alright," she said, "I will tell you what I have done…" He reassuringly stroked her wing, resting his hand gently on her back. The two of them went to their favorite spot - the large oak tree. The two of them basked under the shade, relaxing in the calm, still atmosphere of Kanto's autumn weather. She had great difficulty in keeping his gaze for any length of time.

"Hey, no need to be shy. I mean, the secret's pretty well out now."

"No," she shook her head, tearing up. "You… have no idea…"

"Well, enlighten me then."

"Michael… before I say anything, I want you to promise me one thing…"

"Okay…"

"Please… when I tell you… don't resent me…"

"Alaina," he said, raising a hand to her cheek, "I would _never._ I don't want to hear any more of that, alright?"

"…Alright."

"Good." He took a seat, his back to the tree. Alaina levitated down, but pulled back, unsure of herself. Noticing her unease, Michael patted the ground beside him, signaling for her to take a seat. She did so, laying her head on his shoulder. He wasn't so sure how to respond, knowing that such gestures, given his recent discovery, could have more intimate meanings. But she was in distress, and he refused to deny her contact. Not that he would have, anyways.

"I… don't know how to start," she mumbled.

"Take your time," he said softly.

"I guess… I guess I'll start from the beginning," she said. The latias got herself together, and began to recall the last few months. "The weeks I spent in that dreadful machine… I knew for certain I was simply delaying the inevitable. Every time those people shocked me, it got harder and harder to breath. I wondered why I just didn't give in - my pain would be over, and I would go home. But then that one night, I received my answer…"

"Would that have been…"

"The dream, yes. I reached out to you from halfway across the region. I knew right then that I had found someone… someone to live for. Legendaries don't have dream synchronization with just anyone, you know."

"I had meant to ask you about that," Michael said. "That victini that we rescued had mentioned something about it…"

"I know," she said shyly. "He was disgusted with me…"

"Why?"

"I'll get to that in a moment," she said. He nodded, and she continued. "I strove to live on, just to see if my feelings were correct. I knew they were the moment that you, nearly dead, risked what was left of your life to save mine. Michael… I've loved you from that moment…" She trailed her claws down his chest, resting them on his stomach.

"And I was so clueless all that time…"

"In a way… I'm somewhat glad you were. Had you known the truth - what the dreams and the imprint really meant - you probably would've been repulsed…"

"Alaina, I would not have been repulsed. Do you care to tell me what they meant?"

"Dream synchronization… is a way for… m…mates to call out to each other, even from afar, typically during a extreme circumstances… I loved you before I even knew you… I think that we were made for each other - to be m…mates…" _She… considers me her mate?_

"Is that… how you feel about me? That I'm your mate?"

"I… wish for you to be mine… yes," she said. She started trembling slightly out of nervousness, so he put an arm around her and drew her close. "So… I made it so…"

"What?"

"I marked you as my mate. I imprinted on you… It's… your term for an engagement… Whenever any psychic-type looks into your mind, they will know that you are mine…"

"…Oh." The fact that she had made claim to him greatly shocked him - a _legendary_. Hell, he wouldn't want to disrespect one of the most sacred bonds… but this was all so forced and secretive. He kind of understood why the others were so upset. They had similar feelings, and all of a sudden, the newcomer laid claim to him.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "I didn't know what to do. I love you… but you didn't understand. I thought that if I could play things secretly… then maybe I could make you feel the same way over time…" He wouldn't be lying if he said that he felt somewhat uncomfortable with the situation. Maybe even a bit upset with the latias.

But when he reflected on what she had risked, then he couldn't help but feel honored. A beautiful legendary had been willing to oppose the norms, gaining disapproval from both family members and other peers in order to follow her heart. Regardless of what her mother said, she went through with what she wanted. Even though she had technically lied to him, what she had done was very controversial, and showed how much she felt about him. He cupped her cheek, drawing her closer and kissing her on the forehead.

"Please stop crying," he said.

"You aren't… mad at me?" she asked, wiping her face.

"Not at all. True, you did kind of throw me a curveball… but you did it out of love. And that must have been a really hard decision with your mother…"

"You have no idea," she murmured. "I'm pretty sure I've been disowned," she joked.

"Well then it's her loss," he said, hugging her tightly. "I'm glad that we have you."

"I'm glad that I have you," she replied, nuzzling him. "…May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do you… reciprocate my feelings?" she asked timidly. _You would ask that, wouldn't you?_ It was, quite literally, the question that he hoped to avoid. He was one day into this realization, and already one of the five was wanting to know if he potentially had feelings for her.

"I… I don't know, Alaina," he said. The latias's demeanor dropped slightly, but he continued. "All of this is so sudden… and all of you feel this way. I don't know what to do…"

"I see…"

"I just need to get my thoughts together," he said. "But, whatever you think… don't take that as a no."

 **…..**

Now that Michael knew fully what he was dealing with, he began to speak with the others. He decided to talk to Elise first, as the glaceon seemed to be on the edge of panicking. "Don't worry, sweet girl - everything's alright," he reassured. He kneaded her paws, holding them firmly but gently.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"A little bit overwhelmed by all of this," he replied. "But looking back, I can't believe I didn't catch on to all of your all's advances."

"I'm… sorry if I got too close at times," she said, her face lowered.

"Not at all - I enjoyed all the times we cuddled together."

"…But that's done now," she sighed. "Now that you know what was behind it…"

"I hope not," Michael said, getting her to perk up. "I never want to lose my intimacy with you girls, and that includes our more physical bonding." Hearing those words definitely relaxed the glaceon, who, in return, embraced him in a feral hug.

"Thank you," she said, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. With the adorable expression on her face - a slight blush, and lidded eyes - he couldn't help but give her a peck on the muzzle.

"You know, you have always been so sweet natured. I don't think you have a mean bone in your body."

"I have no reason to - I have you," she said, licking him on the cheek. "Ever since the day you bought me, I've only experienced happiness."

"Do you… feel comfortable talking about it?" he asked her. She nodded.

"I…think so."

"Okay, take your time." Still clamped around him, she took a deep breath, and, releasing it, recounted her story.

"I've always disliked mightyenas… That poacher - he had one. It scent tracked my siblings and… found us when we tried to get back to our den. I was the slowest."

"So he got you…"

"Yeah… And before I knew it, I was in a cage for over two weeks… He fed me decently, but he only took me out for a few minutes a day to… you know."

"Son of a bitch…"

"And always under supervision. That's the worst feeling in the world - to have someone staring you down like that." Michael couldn't even imagine that kind of humiliation, and didn't want to. Doing so would only breed anger for a man that he would likely never see again.

"I'm sorry that you had to go through all that."

"Well… you were the one who got me out of that situation… so I guess I'd say it worked out well in the end. You treated me like a princess."

"You are a little princess," Michael said, stroking her back. "You are adorable, kind, and modest." His words brought out a prominent blush in her cheeks, but her wide grin dismissed any thoughts of embarrassment. "Would you mind telling me when you developed feelings for me?"

"I… I've always had feelings for you," she admitted. "You've treated me so well, and…I really…w..want you…" He was shocked that the timid glaceon would have admitted to such a thing. _She…wants to have sex with me? What?_

"R…really?" She meekly nodded.

"And…I almost got you _killed_ over it. I could just tear myself into pieces…"

"What are you talking about?"

"The day we got attacked…" _The mightyena pack? But that was a freak accident._

"We've already talked about this - I got myself hurt; none of that was your fault."

"That's… not entirely true," she said. "I was… in heat that day."

" _That_ must have been that sweet scent…"

"I know you must think badly of me," she said. "When you were rubbing me… I may have accidentally…"

"Gotten aroused?" She nodded, closing her eyes to avoid looking at him.

"Wow…" The revelation was definitely unexpected, but he wasn't disgusted. Somehow, and curiously to him, he was far from it. Maybe it was a result of the subliminal realization that her arousal smelled great to him.

"I'm so sorry," she whimpered.

"No need to apologize. I just wasn't expecting that. But then again, it makes sense now. They must've smelled your pheromones."

"They must have… Are you disgusted?"

"N-no, I'm not," he replied. "I'm a bit shocked, honestly, but I'm not disgusted." She sighed in relief, the worry dissipating from her face. He scooped her up, pulling their chests together in a tight hug. "You're so cute, y'know that?" She raised her face level with his, briefly touching her muzzle to his nose. She stayed there for a moment, seemingly contemplating something, and then moved slightly to the side, kissing him on the cheek.

 **…..**

Layla, without a doubt, took him by the greatest surprise. She was straightforward and showed no signs of embarrassment. Laying beside him on the ground, looking up at the cloudless sky, she, too, recalled the origins of her feelings.

"When I was under that horrible man, my day-to-day life was full of nothing but dread. I knew what he was gonna do to me if I evolved. Looking back, I know now that there was no chance in hell that would happen, but I didn't know at the time."

"How did he get you in the first place? Riolus, even with their weaker aura sensing capabilities, can detect a person's general emotions."

"It wasn't my choice. He bought me from a day care when I was young."

"Oh."

"Female riolus cost a pretty penny, too. But that pervert was willing to pay that if he could have a lucario as his bitch…"

"You know, I'm kind of happy I put a couple of rounds in him."

"Me too. There's a special place in hell for what he did to Ellen…"

"Ellen?"

"She was the lopunny that lived with us." _Oh no…_ "She ended up doing almost all of the housework, and he abused her in every way imaginable."

"I'm glad she's out of that situation now," Michael said.

"I am too. I often wonder what became of her. We weren't close, though - she never spoke."

"I can see why. Living as a slave tends to screw with your head."

"I know I would've been messed up. I probably would have taken my own life if I ended up being his sex slave. But y'know what?" She leaned in towards his ear, positioning herself over his chest. "After all you've done for me, I sure as hell would love to be _yours_." She pulled away, giving him a flirtatious wink. _Oh… my… Arceus. Did she really just say that?_ The heat flushed to his cheeks, and it would've been impossible for him to hide his blush.

"Wh….what?!"

"You heard me," she giggled. "Mmm, you're so cute when you're flustered."

"You… just…"

"Mhm. You seem surprised."

"Well _yeah_. Where did _that_ come from?"

"It's what I've wanted to say for so long now," she said. "I've saved myself completely for you, because I want to be yours. So why don't you go ahead and take me?" Her sultry demeanor was testing him, and he had to make a conscious effort not to get aroused from her words. And the way her right foot was brushing against his inner thigh… "I bet you'd like to ravage me; pound me until you fill me with your seed."

"L-Layla… please stop," he stammered.

"Why?" she asked.

"It wouldn't be right. What about the others?"

"…Alright, fine," she pouted. "But consider taking up my offer."

"O…okay?"

"Just know that my tail is always raised for you, and only you."

 **…..**

Veronica calmly glided toward the ground. For once, she didn't make some sort of heart-stopping nosedive or spiral. "Huh, that was surprisingly gentle for once," he joked.

"Yeah," she said, her voice noticeably distant. He hopped off of her back, and patted her shoulders.

"Lighten up, Ver. Everything's okay."

"Maybe for some…" He took a seat against the oak tree, motioning for her to join him. She did so, laying straight against him - her back against his stomach, and her neck craned upwards, leaving her head on his left shoulder.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Because," she sighed, "I'm competing in a race that I don't have a chance in."

"Why would you say that?"

"You have Alaina - a legendary that would do anything for you affection - and three of the most sought after females. Elise has the most captivating, friendly nature, and that adorable little face to top it off. Layla's stunning and wants to get in your pants so bad that she can't stand it, and Charlotte's an attractive, sassy little vixen that feels pretty much the same way. But me…" she shook her head.

"What about you?" She looked at him somberly.

"What would you see in a giant winged lizard?" Michael had never been aware that his flygon was insecure with her appearance.

"Is that… what you think of yourself?" She didn't say anything, but nodded.

"If a human has a relationship with a pokémon," she said, "it's typically with a mammalian species. Starters, too, and I'm sure there'd be millions in line to bed a legendary. But flygons… we're not exactly desirable. I know; I've looked it up several times. People want gardevoirs, lucarios, eevees, lopunnies - no one wants a dragon…"

"How do you know I wouldn't?"

"You… do you mean that?"

"Ver, I don't know what you think, but you _are_ beautiful."

"You think so?"

"I know so. Don't sell yourself short." He wrapped his arms around her, and she gave him a lick on the cheek.

"How is it that you're always restoring my confidence?" Veronica asked.

"That's what I'm here for."

"And I love you for it," she replied, pivoting around and embracing him. He ran his hands up her back, stopping at her shoulders and pulling her closer.

"So how'd it start?"

"My feelings?" He nodded. "I fell for you after our gym battle back in Goldenrod."

"Ah, so when you evolved."

"Mhm. Before that, I simply didn't care - about anything, really. Looking back, I'd say it was because I was lonely. Didn't really think that anyone else cared about me, so why should I give a damn about anything? My first trainer definitely didn't care; she was more tied up with her cell phone and nail polish and lipstick… Arceus, she was _annoying_. She could do all that stuff - for hours upon hours - but didn't want to ever spend time with me or her family. Hell, I don't even know why she got a pokémon in the first place. It's not like we trained or battled much."

"So what did you do?"

"I… may have lashed out a bit…"

"Really? How so?"

"Well, I destroyed over Ᵽ500 of makeup, for starters. Oh, and I chewed up her phone."

"Damn, you were a destructive little thing, weren't you?" She laughed.

"Maybe a little…"

"A lot," he corrected. "But she totally deserved it."

"Yeah. Anyways, she took me to the nearest place she could drop me off, which happened to be Dragon's Den. I think I spent a little over a year there before you picked me."

"One of the best decisions I ever made." He stroked her neck, making her high in content. Absentmindedly, his hands went lower.

"Careful," she said.

"Oh, yeah, I meant to ask you about that. What is it with you and that spot on your neck?" She looked away awkwardly, having difficulty finding the right words.

"Dragons… err… are sensitive in that spot."

"Sensitive? How so?"

"That… specific area is… a turn on. It's like your equivalent to foreplay…" _Oh shit, so all those times…_

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know," he said. "I would never have teased you like that…" She chuckled, parting his hair with a single claw.

"That's alright. If you let me make you mine, you can do it all you want."

 **…..**

"About time you figured out," Charlotte said, rolling her eyes. "For awhile there, I thought we were never gonna make any headway. But then again, you didn't exactly pick it up on your own, now did you?"

"I… uhh…"

"Yeah, mhm, you had someone tell you everything. Now who was it?"

"I'm not telling - they wanted it to remain anonymous." She looked at him in an unamused way.

"It was that zoroark, wasn't it?" _Dammit, how the hell did she guess that?_

"No, it wasn't Zeke. But I'm not telling you any more than that," he lied, hoping she would ease off.

"If you say so…" She stood up, walked around him, and embraced him from behind. "Y'know, I think it should count for something that I was the first to feel this way."

"Really? When'd you start?"

"Ever since the first day," she said, smiling.

"The first day?"

"Right the moment you picked me."

"Is that so?"

"Mhm. You chose me when I was the least appealing of the three. When you chose me… I knew then that I wanted to be more than your pokémon. He stacked the odds against me, but you didn't care about battling or rarity." _Stacked the odds against her?_

"Who did?"

"Who else?" _She can't be serious…_

"What would Sycamore have had against you?"

"I… I don't know fully," she said. "I… haven't told you what happened with him, now have I?"

"No…" He was praying that his fire fox hadn't been hurt. She sighed.

"As you know… I may have been a bit hyperactive as a fennekin."

"Yeah, no kidding," he joked. "But I enjoyed every second of it."

"Well… I don't think he did…" _Professor Sycamore… what did he do to her?_

"Charlotte…" he said, tearing up, "please tell me he didn't…"

"Huh?" She looked at him confusedly, but caught his meaning. "Oh, no - nothing like that," she reassured him. "No, he didn't hurt me physically…"

"I don't understand… He seemed like a decent guy…"

"Maybe on the outside," she remarked. "But on the inside, he was anything but decent."

"What happened?" She shook her head.

"It doesn't matter; it's in the past."

"Charlotte… please?"

"…Alright, fine - but I don't wanna talk about it any more after this, okay?"

"Gotcha." She paused for a moment, simply grasping him tightly, before finally speaking up.

"Living at that place had always been pretty fun. Dozens of volunteers poured in every day, so we always had people to tend to us, or play with us. Only, I ended up exhausting a good bit of them."

"I could imagine."

"I only wanted to play," she said matter-of-factly. "There was never any harm in that…"

"Of course not."

"One night, the volunteer accidentally left the kennel unlocked. I snuck out and went down the hallway - mostly wandering around. I went upstairs, and he had his door open."

"So you went in?"

"I figured that he might be bored, or that he might want to play. Hell was I wrong…" She paused for a moment, tense from recalling the bad memories. He ran his hands through the tufts of hair on her shoulders, eliciting a contented sigh from her.

"Take your time."

"…I hopped up on his desk. He was working on something, something on his desktop. I accidentally knocked the computer down. It shattered. I don't think I've ever seen anyone flip out like that."

"He got angry?"

"Yes, but first he called someone up. He was really in a panic. I stayed there and watched. Had I known what was gonna happen, I would have left."

"He must've been working on something really important."

"I remember him talking about a paper. Something about genetics and moves. He ran over to his laptop, and after a few minutes, started screaming something about it being 'too late,' and that 'it' was already submitted." _Already submitted? What's that supposed to mean?_

"What happened after that?"

"He… turned around and kicked me… I tried to run away, but my side hurt, and he shut the door. I remember him telling me that since I had ruined his chance of greatness, he would ruin mine. I spent the next three years at that place."

"You spent _three_ years there?! As a starter?"

"Mhm. He made sure that none of the volunteers ever played with me - I was always 'in time-out for bad behavior.' Hardly got to interact with any of the other fennekins. And sometimes, to lower me even more… he brought me to the very edge of freedom. I would be presented to trainers - with others that were clearly better options. If he pulled me out, I was always pitted against others with special moves, or more experience, or a shiny froakie… 'They'll never pick you,' he'd always say. But then _you_ did."

"And not a day goes by that I'm not glad that I made that choice." She grasped him tightly, pulling him against her smaller body. "And just to think, before you even knew me, you were looking out for me."

"Huh? What do you mean?" she asked.

"Sycamore had told me that he was impressed with my work; that my theory laid the groundworks for new research into move inheritance. And three years before I picked you? That would have been the exact time that I had finished and submitted my thesis. From what you've told me, I think he might have been trying to steal my work before it was turned in. Had he been able to do that, I would have been expelled for plagiarizing my own paper."

"Some things were just meant to happen, I guess," Charlotte said. "Do you think… you and I could be something?" Michael looked down, unsure of how to answer her question.

"Char, I… I don't know," he sighed. "All of this has kind of hit me like freight train as of recently. I… love all of you all equally; I've never played favorites, and you all want the same thing that I couldn't rightfully go through with any one of you."

"Wh…what?" she asked, her voice cracking up.

"How would you feel if I engaged in a relationship with Elise?"

"I… I don't…"

"You would be hurt that I chose her over you, wouldn't you?" She nodded wordlessly. "Don't you think that the others would be hurt similarly if I chose you over each of them?"

"…I see…"

"I'm totally at a loss for what to do. We all know way too much for things to go back to the way they were before, yet no matter what I do, I'll be crushing four of you. I just… I don't know what to do…"

 **…..**

With everything coming to light, the tensions settled amongst all of them. Alaina apologized for making a move behind everyone's back, and Veronica apologized for threatening to bash her skull in. Hostilities settled, and Michael had accepted what he had been ignoring all along.

Despite this, though, a new issue took the place of the previous one - an issue that was ongoing inside of all of them. Michael didn't know what to do - who to pick. Did he even want to try something like this at all? He had mentioned that he was open to the idea, but following through with such a claim was a different matter entirely. And with one of the girls that had been with him all this time? True, he had thought of them as the greatest things in the whole world, but a bond like this was something that he would never have considered. And no matter what, he couldn't bring himself to choose one over the other.

Apart from his internal struggles in the perspective of jumping into a relationship with one of his girls, he didn't have a clue how he should approach the topic of poképhilia in general. He supposed that he should try to act as though nothing was different, but in all honesty, that would take some practice. Or at least, somewhere to start - someone to ask for advice.

 **…..**

Michael knocked on the door, hoping that he had not woken his friend. He heard the faint sound of the vulpix's voice. "Come on, Sammy! You know I can't reach the doorknob."

"Alright, alright, give me a sec." A moment later, Samuel opened the door, still in the process of slipping on a T-shirt.

"Was I… interrupting something?" Michael asked.

"N-no, not at all," Samuel said. "I was just lounging."

"Could I talk with you for a little bit?"

"Sure, is something wrong?"

"Kind of." The two walked inside, taking seats on the couch. Nicole hopped on Samuel's lap, just as she always did.

"What's wrong?"

"I umm… found out that the girls…"

"Are smitten with you?"

"…Yeah."

"Took you long enough," Nicole said teasingly.

"So it really was obvious to everyone but me?" Michael asked.

"No offense man, but yeah."

"I must look like a moron right now."

"Just when it comes to dealing with girls," Nicole said.

"Nicole." Samuel nudged her slightly.

"No, she's right. I can't believe I missed the cues all this time. And because I let this go on for so long, encouraging it and reciprocating it, now I've got to make a choice that's gonna hurt four of them."

"That's… tough," Samuel admitted. "I don't know if I can offer you any advice in that regard."

"Pick the fire fox!" Nicole cheered. Samuel rolled his eyes.

"I didn't come to ask advice on who to pick," Michael said, "but thank you, Nicole, for the recommendation."

"No problem!"

"So what do you need advice on?"

"Just… this whole matter, in general."

"Oh, you mean the idea of a relationship with a pokémon?"

"Yeah," Michael said, nodding. "This is all so new… I just need some insight."

"Well," Nicole said, "what's troubling you? What's stopping you from trying?"

"Aside from the fact that I've never been in a relationship at all…"

"Neither had Sammy," she interrupted, "and look where we're at now."

"I'm just curious as to how this all works…"

"I'd say just the same way as any relationship," she said.

"But… the anatomical differences…"

"So?" She placed her front paws on Samuel's shoulders. "Tell me, does it look like anatomy is getting in our way?" To emphasize her point, she mashed her lips together with Samuel's, making his eyes go wide in shock. She pulled away, giving him a slight lick on the lips in her retreat, leaving Samuel blushing.

"N…Nicole," he gasped, "not now…"

"Oh, don't worry," she giggled. "There will be plenty of that later." She hopped off of him, heading back to the bedroom. She shot him a suggestive look. "Don't keep me waiting too long." _Well damn,_ Michael though, _she wasn't very subliminal about that at all…_

"Well that was… interesting…"

"S-sorry about that," he stammered. "She's uh… rather blunt when it comes to things of that nature…"

"No kidding. Kinda went in for the kill there," Michael said.

"Yeah…" Samuel fell silent, likely unsure of what to say. Michael decided to break the ice.

"So uhh… about the whole relationship…"

"What about it?"

"I know this might be a really personal question…"

"Go ahead."

"How do the two of you…uhh…"

"Oh! No, we haven't gone _that_ far. Not yet, at least. We agreed to wait until she evolves before we do anything too serious."

"Gotcha." Michael was somewhat disappointed to hear this - since sex would likely be an upcoming topic if he were to try this out, he wanted to learn about it before he was blindsided again. Not that he would have ever dreamed of doing something like that with any of the girls. But with the way things had heated up, he knew that someone was going to try to make a move - probably Layla.

"I mean, we fool around a little bit, but nothing major… Why do you ask, thinking about gettin' it on with one of them?" Michael's cheeks reddened from his not-so-subtle implications.

"I… I don't know…"

"Then are you attracted to them? Any of them?" Michael thought it over. Was he? He had always told the girls that they were beautiful. But did he feel that way - in this manner? Their personalities were amazing, and he could easily see himself attracted to them based off of that. But their looks? The truth of the matter is that if you are in love with someone, then you need to love every single thing about them - inside and out. He reflected on each of the girls - now with the knowledge that he had acquired the other day.

First there was Charlotte, his starter and very first partner. She was always so upbeat and positive, bold and courageous. Her vulpine grin, perky ears, and bushy tail all served to make him question his attraction.

Elise was easily the cutest thing in the world. The first day, upon realizing her sweet nature and adorable features, he couldn't help but want to take care of her, want to protect her. The glaceon was a sleek, graceful sight, and, again, he contemplated if he was attracted to her.

Then there was the fearsome flygon, that veiled her loving nature in the form of aggression. Veronica had always been rough on the field, but gentle on him. And with her thick tail, smooth body, and beautiful smile, he couldn't deny that she had also captured his eye.

Layla was… definitely trying to bring out his more carnal side. Whether he liked to admit it or not, she had just about taken him the day before. With voluptuous, firm hips, and that lustful gaze, he couldn't help but consider her "offer."

And Alaina - if she hadn't sacrificed both her life and reputation for him, he didn't know who had. A legendary had come forth and made her affection for him known, and had even taken action towards her feelings. And he wouldn't be lying if he said she was gorgeous. Her soft, warmhearted personality enthralled him. The light hazel eyes matched his own, like they were, as she had put it, 'made for each other.'

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he _was_ attracted to them. All of them had their own perfect attributes, and if any of them were his only pokémon, then he surely would have been willing to try.

"I… think I am, yeah," Michael replied. "But I don't know how I can choose…"

"Well," Samuel shrugged, "I don't know what to tell you about your specific case. But if you do decide to go through with it with one of them, just let it all happen. I can't exactly tell you what to expect, but if the time comes, just act naturally."

 **…..**

"C'mon," Layla whispered the next morning. "We made breakfast." She gently nipped his ear, causing him to stiffen up. She left him, giggling to herself over his reaction. Michael shot her a glare, but was shocked at what he saw. Her back was turned to him, her tail raised. He snapped his head to the side as a result of seeing her nether region, and fairly certain that she had intentionally done that. _Oh my Arceus… I can't believe she just did that…_

But when he thought about it - even though it was only a moment - he _had_ looked. He might have been caught completely off guard, but he was sure that he could have averted his gaze at least a little bit sooner. _I… can't believe I just looked at her that way…_ He wanted to feel disgusted with himself… but more than that, he couldn't help but feel exhilarated. He made his way to the bathroom, where he got himself together while going through his morning routine.

Breakfast was awkward, needless to say. Every once in a while, he would look up to meet one of the girl's stares, to which he would avert his gaze once more. He wondered what they were thinking, or in Layla's case, tried _not_ to wonder what she was thinking. He knew that she would undoubtedly try something, and that it was only a matter of time. And with his recent sighting, he wasn't completely sure if he'd turn her down. _No,_ he mentally chastised himself, _I couldn't do that to the other four._ _I would have to stop her if she tried to make a move._

But that led him right back to his ultimate dilemma. What was he to do? He couldn't rightfully pick one of them over the others. He loved them way too much to hurt their feelings in such an intimate way. And one of them had already, quite literally, taken him as a mate. Was he obliged to choose Alaina? _…No,_ he reasoned, _I'm not obliged to do anything in this situation. Even though Alaina claimed me, she did it without me knowing. As far as I see it, she's in the same boat as the others._ He really didn't have to act at all, when he thought about it. But life from there on out would always be more tense, given that he knew their affections for him. And if he did nothing, then maybe… maybe he might hurt them through inaction. _This… this just sucks._ No matter what he did, the majority would get hurt. _I guess this is what I get for stacking my team full of girls…_

"Michael," Charlotte said, gaining his attention, "is something wrong? You've barely touched your food."

"Sorry, just thinking."

"About?" He made no response. Obviously, he didn't want to disclose his thoughts to them.

"Y'know, we don't have to sit here and ignore the elephant in the room," Veronica said.

"I know. I just… don't know how to talk about all of this…"

"Well, you could start by talking…" The flygon had a point, though he didn't want to admit it.

"I don't know what to do," he finally stated. "I just don't - this is all way over my head right now. I refuse to hurt four of you by picking any one of you. And I love you all the same, so I don't even think I could pick if I wanted to." For awhile, no one spoke. Maybe the realization that he wouldn't do anything left them speechless.

"I wouldn't want you to do that," Elise finally said, somewhat pouting. "I… love you, but I wouldn't want you to pick me if it hurt my sisters."

"Agreed. It wouldn't feel right to take him while the rest of you can only sit by and watch," Charlotte said. "I want you… but not at the expense of hurting the rest of you." _That's great, at least we've reached some sort of consensus._

"All this time," Veronica stated, "we've been telling you what we want. I don't think we ever asked if _any_ of this is what you want…"

"I know now that I do feel attraction towards you girls," he said. "But like I've said before, I'm not picking." Alaina levitated from her seat, taking the empty plates to the dishwasher.

"Maybe… maybe you don't have to," she quietly said. He tried to formulate what she was saying, but found himself confused.

"What are you saying?"

"Well… you're troubling yourself with the idea of picking one of us… why not pick all of us?" Alina's idea came out of nowhere, and everyone was, needless to say, shocked by it. He wouldn't have considered the prospect of polygamy, but now the option was clearly set before him.

"You mean… a relationship with _all_ of you?"

"It could… it could work," she said. "You wouldn't be excluding anyone, and yet everyone could act on their feelings…" She had made somewhat of a point, but still, the idea seemed ridiculous.

"Yeah, I'm not so sure about polygamy," he stated. "You girls are familiar with my views on all this stuff, right?" They nodded. Morality was a frequent discussion topic in their household. There was little debate, as they agreed wholeheartedly with each other in terms of ideology, but they still found it an interesting subject - especially with the direction that the world seemed to be going in.

Michael was very traditional in terms of relationships, a strong proponent of both individuals saving themselves for marriage. And he would accept nothing less; if there was one thing he was adamant about, it was the fact that if he were to settle down with a girl, she _would_ be a virgin. She would be fully his, and he would be fully hers.

But he couldn't fairly expect something like that in the case of polygamy. It wouldn't be right to expect each of them to give their virginity to him, when he could not give himself fully to them.

"It wouldn't be right… I couldn't dedicate myself fully to each of you if I'm with all of you. It wouldn't be fair."

"How would it be unfair?" Veronica asked. "Do you not love us all 'infinitely,' as you put it?"

"You know I do."

"Then your love for us should not be affected by you being with all of us." The flygon had a point, and he found himself struggling to counter it.

"I… I don't know," he said. "That seems like a great way to invoke jealousy." Veronica shrugged, looking at the others.

"Would any of you be jealous?" she asked.

"No… not really," Layla said. "I just want—."

"We _know_ what you want," Charlotte said. _Oh, so they're all aware of Layla's desires…_ "But I think that might work. I mean, you all are my sisters - I wouldn't want Michael at your all's disappointment."

"I feel the same way," Elise piped up.

"A-all of you?"

"It's a simple solution," Alaina said. "That is, if you're willing to try it." In a way, he was in between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, they had presented an option before him; an option that, if he refused, might hurt them - make them feel like he didn't want any of them. But if he were to pursue this, then he would have to overlook the awkwardness of it. A relationship with all of them? He definitely wouldn't have thought of that. "Are you?" the latias asked.

"I don't know," he repeated. "To think, just yesterday I was questioning my attraction to pokémon. Now polygamy? This is a lot to take in at once."

"I'm sure it is," Charlotte said. "But would you be willing to give it a shot?"

"I… guess?" The braixen smiled widely at him, about to jump out of her chair in excitement. "I mean, I—."

"Really?!" she shouted unnecessarily loud. "Th…thank you!" _Great. What have I gotten myself into?_ His thoughts were interrupted by the lucario hugging him tightly.

"You won't regret this," she said. "I know it."

 **…..**

To his relief, all hostilities amongst the girls settled as if they had never been there in the first place. But a new tension seemed to rise. He had made sure that it was understood that he wanted to wait awhile before they did anything too serious, and the girls agreed. But that definitely didn't stop them from being flirtatious. And now, they didn't even wait to do so when they were alone with him. Even Elise was more bold than usual, hopping up into his lap and pecking his cheek.

But there were new questions to be answered. _What will the guys think?_ All of his comrades, except Thomas, had been fine with Samuel's relationship, but that was an entirely different case from his. Samuel, after all, was in a relationship with _one_ pokémon. He had five.

Hearing a knock on the door, the clingy glaceon reluctantly got up, letting Michael answer it. The Commander had gone door to door, and already had several behind him. "We need to head out," he said. "Sorry it's so sudden, but we've got a nearby distress call from the Viridian Police Force."

"Alright," Michael said. Elise pouted, but they all knew the requirements of the job - had to be ready to go at any time.

They ran to the armory and slipped on their suits. "Hold up," Wesley said to Thomas. "Got something else in mind for you. The rest of you, hurry up. We'll talk about everything "

 **…..**

Michael and the others jumped off of the Chinook, their thermal visors highlighting the distant police officers, crouched behind their vehicles. The doors were opened to act as shields, but they had been doing a poor job - fragmented shards of metal lay about; the bullets had penetrated straight through them.

Further away, they could see the source of the conflict. An old, two story house with fading white paint had the five targets inside. The top windows had long been shot out, and they could see the barrels of the rifles pointing outside. Though he couldn't make out the exact builds of the weapons, he did recognize the typical AR frames. With red dot sights, it was apparent that the criminals possessed higher tech weaponry than what they were used to. But with what they had in mind, it wouldn't do them much good.

Samuel set up in the forestry, scoping in on the left side of the front. He easily had one or two in his sights, but the plan wasn't to kill them. No, these guys were coming back with them. A month or two in Johto's interrogation and torture rooms would convince them to give any information they had. John took position about ten yards to his right, taking the other side.

As for the rest, they headed around the back, each taking position at different points on the property. Michael crouched behind the old white pickup not far from the corner, while Alex and Kevin stood on either side of the rickety shed. Michael kept his eyes on the balcony, just in case one of the aggressors came out. With all in order, Thomas trudged toward the side door, ready to storm the building.

The plan was pretty simple: he would infiltrate it single-handedly after they flashbanged the upstairs, while the others would fire through the windows at the enemies. Of course, they had to be careful that they didn't hit them in any fatal regions, but the fact that the enemies would be engaged from all sides, inside and out, would surely result in their fall.

Thomas, being that he would be walking straight into heavy fire, did not have his Reaper suit. Instead, he wore a modified bomb suit. It was densely packed with ballistic armor, and weighed well over a hundred pounds. With his size, though, Thomas was easily able to deal with the endeavor.

"Flash 'em," Wesley said. Everyone readied themselves to cover Thomas's infiltration. Alex and Kevin threw their flashbangs through the back window. Frantic yelling could be heard from the second floor as Thomas trudged through the house. Michael kept his sights through the balcony door. Within seconds, the spraying of the machine gun echoed throughout the house. Soon after, the others joined in, hitting the aggressors wherever they could non-fatally. Michael caught a glimpse of one enemy, stumbling off to the side, yell in pain as a small cloud of red mist sprayed out from his back. Samuel had taken out his spine, and, before he hit the ground, his legs were mowed out from beneath him.

"Shit, we've got a runner!" Thomas said. No sooner than the words had left his mouth, one of the enemies had jumped over the balcony, landing on the truck and jumping over Michael and dashing into the woods. Clasping his rifle, he had a bloodied hockey mask.

"I've got him!" Michael said. He took off after him, dashing into the darkness of the forest. Though he could see the man, he couldn't guarantee a clear shot - he would have to stop moving and take aim, and he may very well be gone after that second of inactivity. Plus, the enemy didn't seem to know that he was trailing him, so there was no need to risk the chance of killing him.

Michael finally caught up to the enemy, who was rummaging through a duffle bag. His rifle was set aside, and he took out a new magazine and jammed it in, then took out a radio.

"They just took the whole gang!" he yelled. "I'm the only one left!"

"Shit," the voice on the other end of the transmission said. Michael silently crept closer, while the enemy was chambering the first round in his AR.

"We need backup now - that's the only way we're getting outta this shit," he said. "You gotta send Raptor!" _What?_

"Alright, I had her stationed in the area just in case. She'll be there in a moment." _She?_ The transmission was cut. Michael was but a few feet behind him at this point.

"I don't have a fucking moment," he muttered to himself. He grabbed the rifle and stood up. _And…._ Michael, rising his TAVOR over his head, smashed it into the back of the enemy's. He immediately fell to his knees, then to the ground. He didn't move any more.

"Ohh…. _fuck_ ," Michael said. "I think… I may have killed this one."

"Dammit Higgs!" Wesley said.

"You had one job!" Kevin added. Michael knelt beside him, feeling his neck for a pulse.

"Nope, he's still alive. Out like a light, though."

"Fine," Wesley sighed. "Someone get over there and help him. Brace yourself for whoever's coming." Michael concealed himself in the shrubbery, keeping alert for whatever may come.

"I'm on my way," Alex said. The offer of backup in the dark woods was far from unwelcome. Michael listened intensely, but the howling of the wind was the only sound that he heard. Of course, until the footsteps of his comrade drew nearer.

Alex stepped out into the open clearing. A glimmer of the moonlight was reflected on the ground below him, but only Michael was able to look up and trace it to its source. _No… it can't be…_ It landed straight in front of him. He immediately shot at its midsection, but the armor absorbed the blunt of his shots. With a quick spin, it slammed its thick, spiked tail into his face. Alex was sent to the ground, sprawled out and unresponsive. His mask was cracked, the visor completely broken.

"Alex!" Michael raised his own weapon, releasing a barrage of lead towards the pokémon's chest. Sparks flew off of its armor, but it visibly flinched. He didn't let up, emptying the entire magazine into her. But the so called Raptor still remained standing, and cast a fierce glare towards him. The armor was cracked and broken, but still concealed her. She made her way towards him, extending the two blades from both arm pieces. This time, he was responsible for two lives. And this time, he didn't have Alaina to help him. He withdrew his dagger; if that armor was strong enough to resist rifle rounds, then the 9mm sure as hell would be a waste of time.

She was the one to strike first. A diagonal slash approached his shoulder, and he parried it with his much shorter blade. The other followed, going for his head. He ducked under, the curved sword barely missing the top of his head. Using the opportunity, he thrust his dagger forward, trying to stab her. But much like last time, he had made the mistake of letting her get too close. That was made evident by the harsh kick in the stomach. He was sent back to the tree, the unconscious gang member not far from his feet. Blocking all of the incoming attacks was getting harder and harder - her agility made itself very obvious. He dodged to the side in attempt to avoid the slash, but all of a sudden, the blade ceased - it was deeply embedded within the tree.

Michael used the situation to his advantage. Grabbing her right arm with his left, he put all of his strength into holding it back. With his other, he took the dagger and swiftly stuck it in between the plates of her armor. She roared out in pain; all two feet of the dagger sunk inside. The hilt pointed downwards; entering through her side, the blade pierced bone and continued into her leg. Michael never gave her the chance to react. He withdrew it slightly before striking it in at a slightly different angle. She hissed, and the blade was soaked in red.

That was the point when Raptor decided that she had had enough. She violently jerked her arm away, and the next thing Michael knew, the sharp, curved blade was deep within his left arm. She yanked back both blades, freeing herself of him and the tree. A quick look to the side, and he saw the cut to have split his bicep in two, revealing the surface of his humerus. But there was much less blood than he had expected, and, in the adrenaline, almost no pain.

With no time to worry about his severe injury, he deflected a swipe to his mid-section. Raptor made sure to stay further back; she wasn't going to make that costly mistake again by getting herself stuck once more. The glare from her soulless eyes showed her anger towards him, her seeping side bearing testament to her frustration. As she prepared for another swipe, however, she flinched. The gunfire sounded, and stayed on her helmet. Raptor used her arms to shield her head, turning and running into the woods. Kevin and John had arrived, providing cover fire for their comrades. "Get him the hell out of there!" Wesley said. Slinging their rifles over their shoulders, they both grabbed Alex at each end, picking him up and carrying him away. Michael, with his unscathed arm and dragging the fallen gang member behind him, followed after them.

With the adrenaline wearing off, he could more prominently feel the pain in his left arm. His skin felt like it was crawling, but he didn't look. Rather, he focused on getting back to the Chinook and getting the hell out of there. Thomas carried one gang member on each shoulder, while Samuel carried both of their weapons. Within minutes, the officers were storming the building, confiscating everything they had brought - mainly the weapons and drugs they had been transporting. Their unconscious forms were bound and shackled, thrown onto the helicopter with them. Samuel kept watch over them with his pistol tilted towards their heads.

Alex was lowered onto the stretcher, and the two medics approached him. Upon removing his mask, they found that the damage wasn't as bad as they had initially thought. It was rough - his nose was broken, and the shards of his visor's material had cut his face, but it could have been much worse. Immediately, Grace and Sebastian got to work on healing his wounds.

"How's it look?" Wesley asked.

"Not too bad," the meowstic said. "Definitely got beat up a bit, but it's not really serious."

"Well in that case, tend to Michael's arm first," he said. "He got a pretty nasty cut back there." Michael had forgotten about his own wound during the time - he had been focused in keeping him and Alex alive, and getting out of there. Grace approached him.

"Always getting hurt, aren't you? Go on, show me your arm." The blood surrounding the wound made it difficult to see properly, so he had to remove his whole suit. But when he removed his left sleeve, he couldn't believe what he saw. "Is this some sort of joke?" the gardevoir asked.

"What?"

"You'd rather me focus my efforts in closing up a little scratch rather than his face?" she asked, motioning to Alex.

"What the—." Wesley was speechless at seeing the result. Michael's cut was shallow and no longer bleeding, despite the fact that he had received it moments before. _I… healed that quickly?_ "No, that's a load of bullshit," he said. He picked up his laptop, and, going into their visual feeds, he accessed Michael's. He watched as the encounter with Raptor progressed, and found the particular moment he was looking for. He paused it and flipped the screen to face them. "Call that a little scratch?" On the screen was the clear picture of Michael's deeply cut arm, recognizable only due to the short moment that he had been able to look at it.

"That's… that's not possible," she said. "See for yourself."

"He must have… healed," Sebastian stated. "But humans don't do that…"

"Wanna explain, Michael?" Wesley asked. He had not revealed the news to anyone as of yet; Michael felt that he should be careful about how he broke the news to them - if he even decided to do so. But now, the choice had been made for him - they wanted an answer. "Michael?"

"It was a gift from Alaina," he replied. "She told me that I would be able to heal, but… I didn't know it would be _that_ fast."

"And you didn't think to tell me this because?"

"Well, how would you have responded if I just came up to you and said that I would continuously heal?," Michael asked. "You would have thought me to be insane." Wesley didn't respond, probably mentally admitting that he had a point.

"Wait a second," Sebastian said, "humans cannot use powers. So then this must have been a change to your biology, right?"

"Yes. At the cellular level. From what she told me, everything regenerates."

"I don't… believe it. That means…"

"The telomeres…" Grace said.

"They won't shorten; no, they won't - not after a certain point."

"Could y'all speak some fucking English?" Kevin asked. "What the hell is all that supposed to mean?" Sebastian shook his head in disbelief.

"It means he will live indefinitely. Practically immortal."

 **…..**

Wesley had called Michael to his office, still relatively silent after the discovery of his new abilities. _Great,_ Michael thought, _just something else that I managed to get myself into trouble about._ He had, admittedly, not thought everything out in regards to his healing and immortality. Just how _had_ he expected everything to work out, anyways? They were going to find out eventually - one way or another. He should have planned for this better, instead of carelessly putting it off. But it did him no good to think these things over now. He had been found out, and now it was time to come clean about it.

"I was thinking all of this over on the way back," Wesley started. "Gotta say that I was initially a bit upset that you'd go and do something like this."

"Why? If anything, it makes the medics' jobs a whole lot easier."

"It makes _all_ of our jobs a hell of a lot harder to conceal the fact that one of our members is _immortal._ " _Shit, he's got a point…_ "But I've been thinking this through, and this all might just work out." He walked over to his file cabinet and began rummaging through it. He retrieved a vanilla folder and went back to his chair. Upon the Commander opening it and seeing the photo, Michael realized that he was looking at his file. "I thought so," Wesley muttered. "Just wanted to look to make sure. You were initially headed towards a biology-based career, right?"

"Yeah," Michael said, nodding. "I took some time off to actually have a little bit of a life, and then, before I knew it, I was into the Johto Gym challenge. After trying Hoenn out, I found the massacre."

"Right. And are you still considering a job in bio-med?" Michael had to think it over. After teaming up with the girls, he pretty much stopped worrying about the future. With his intelligence and their strength, money wasn't exactly a problem. Granted, he would've settled down eventually and used his experience to find a job, but he hadn't been too concerned with all of that.

But upon joining the military, he set all of that aside - his trainer ambitions and his future plans. He wanted to do whatever he could to put an end to the evilness plaguing the world, but in doing so, he recklessly pursued a career that he had no control over. Of course, if he could go back and undo that choice, he would not - he and the others had done a lot of good in putting an end to the terrorist's organization, and he got to meet Alaina, which led to the bond he now shared with the girls. But in terms of his degree, he had no clue what he would do. "I don't know," Michael finally said. "I mean, I _guess_. I don't exactly know when all of this will be over, or when it will be the time to close the curtains on the Twenty-Fifth Squad. I've always loved biology, and I've got a degree in it."

"Do you like your job now?"

"It… has its ups and downs, but yeah, I'd definitely say I enjoy the good that we do."

"Then how about sticking with us - forever?" The proposition came out of the blue, and Michael was admittedly confused by it.

"I… don't understand. Stay here forever?"

"Mhm. Just think of all the _experience_ that you would gain over the years. You could make for one hell of a commander. But most of all, our forces would protect your secret. Just think about this for a second: what would a bunch of scientists think if they found out that one of their colleagues had abilities like yours? What do you think they'd want to do?"

"Oh…" Michael caught on to what he was saying. "In all honesty, they'd probably be all over me. They'd likely want what I have."

"Yep. I'm sure you, growing up in Kalos, remember how the field reacted to finding out about that ultimate weapon and AZ? They pursued him tirelessly, and have tried to reactivate the weapon countless times. Some things just aren't meant to be, and immortality is one of them. And yet here you are."

"Yeah…"

"You could stay in Johto's military. No politicians, no scientists - just us. Away from the media, out of the public view… It would be a mutual benefit - we keep you safe and secure, and you lead the future generations." _Hmm, he's got a point. But how would the girls feel? We'd remain pretty tied down to the military for the rest of our lives._

"I don't know how the girls would feel about this all… We were thinking about starting up our campaign again, maybe try again at the gym challenge. If there's always a need for me, then how will I be able to travel around and do what they want?"

"I'm not sure that you completely understand what'd be required of you as a commander," he responded. "Of course, during times of war or conflict, we'd need you to be pretty stationary back at HQ. But other than that, you're free to go after each tour. I'm sure y'all could get a lot of battling done in three, four months. Think about it - when there isn't a need for the soldiers, there really isn't a need for the people to lead them." _That is true…_

He eventually settled on the fact that he would need to talk to the girls about it. But upon actually binging the topic up to them, he found that they didn't really have much to talk about. They all seemed to think that it was a great idea, and that it would keep them all safe, while also allowing for them to have some fun every once in awhile. And the military took very good care of them. Once they got past the combat aspect, they really didn't have anything to worry about. All expenses that they could possibly think of were taken care of; most of his paycheck was spending money. When it was decided that his physical services were no longer needed, then there would be nothing to worry about. Life in the military might just be the life for them.

 **…..**

Michael shut the door to Elise and Veronica's room, heading back to the living room. Alaina levitated over the couch, watching a documentary of, of all things, the legendary Groudon. _Funny,_ he mused, _it kind of feels like I know a celebrity or something…_ The video footage of him wreaking havoc on Sootopolis, bending the very faults of the earth and changing the landscape for years to come - all in an effort to attack his water-type foe - was truly a sight to behold.

"There you are. Come, sit with me," she said. He took the spot beside her, and she levitated closer. "He's much scarier in that form, wouldn't you say so?" In his primal form, Groudon seemed to have no remnant of his usual self, with the radiating golden hues from his body completely clouding out any sense of recognition of their friend.

"Definitely," he replied. "Hope he doesn't have to go through any of that shit ever again."

"That's a terrifying experience - to not have control over your body." She placed her hand on his, then drew closer to him. "Thank you for saving me. For everything." He embraced her, returning her affection fully.

"No, thank _you_. Ever since you've joined us, you've been such an amazing addition to our family. It's all because of you that I've even found out about your all's feelings and have been able to experience this new bond with you all." He held her against himself, feeling her heartbeat against his chest. She craned her neck, facing him directly.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you too." He rubbed the side of her face, seeing his reflection in her similarly golden eyes. If it weren't for her, he would never have come to this realization, and he wouldn't be experiencing this new sensation. The sensation of, for once, stopping and acting on what his heart had been saying all along. All thanks to this latias before him; or rather, on top of him. He felt strange, but far from bad about the wayward thought that had worked its way into his head. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that maybe, he needed to _stop_ thinking about these sorts of things. This was them now.

Michael decided to take a leap of faith, and listen to what he had been forsaking for so long now. He gently pulled her closer, and Michael was the one to close the gap between their lips. She closed her eyes; he pressed in a little more, deepening the kiss. The contact was brief, but heartfelt nonetheless. Alaina looked at him with half-lidded eyes, basking in the happiness she felt at what had just happened.

"So… much for you… wanting to take it slow," she gasped.

"Trust me, I do," he said. "I just felt that we could take things _one_ step further."

"Well," she giggled, "you won't hear me complaining." She trailed her hand down his neck and to his chest. "That was a bit rushed, though."

"I'm sorry, I was a bit nervous."

"No, nothing to apologize about," she said, smiling, and looking to be half drunk. "We'll just have to work on it." With that, she slammed her lips back into his, slipping her arms under his and clasping his back tightly. This one lasted much longer, and soon, he felt something else making contact with his lips. Her tongue begged for entry, and, opening his mouth slightly, he allowed her passage. The feeling of her small tongue making contact with his own made his face heat up. But despite this, he refused to be the one to end their oral dance. When Alaina decided to end it and pull back, he could see that she, too, had a prominent blush on her face. They were both gasping for breath.

"Was that… just an excuse to do it again?" he asked. She waited a moment to catch her breath before responding.

"Maybe," she teased. "I'm so glad to be with you in this way. Although," she cooed, trailing further down to his stomach, "I do wish to go further."

"Alaina… it wouldn't be right. We just started all of this."

"We are bound together as mates," she said. "It's only natural that such a bond would come with _mating_."

"But I just learned about all of this," he countered. "Please, just give me some time, okay?"

"Oh, alright. I suppose we can go with your idea to wait." She nuzzled under his chin, leaning in closely to his ear. "But know this: when you do decide to go further, you are _mine_." Michael gave her one more peck on the lips.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Annnnnd done! Be sure to leave a review/like if you enjoyed! Until next time.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:**

 **Alright, so this chapter isn't as long as the others, but it's necessary for the transition into what's coming. The next chapter should be a great deal longer.**

 **I don't own Pokémon or any of the products associated with this story. All I own is my characters and the plot.**

 **As a side note, I'm still open to receiving OCs. That doesn't mean I'll be able to use every one that is submitted; they do need to be usable within the framework of this story.**

 **If you enjoy reading, please consider leaving a review. Feedback is always greatly appreciated!**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

* * *

 **"Each person deserves a day away in which no problems are confronted, no solutions searched for. Each of us needs to withdraw from the cares which will not withdraw from us."**

 **-Maya Angelou**

* * *

 **Ch. 9 - Taking Time Off**

"I…I'll never talk," the leader of the gang, who went by "Razor," said. He was strapped down to the metal chair, and a set of wires were tied to his wrists and ankles. Their origin could be traced to the panel at the interrogator's side, the dial on top currently set to medium voltage. The squad watched through the one-way glass as the interrogator went about his work, pausing to write something down.

"Well it seems to me like you're outta options, then," he said. "I mean, we could just keep doing this." With that, he increased the voltage, bordering the danger level. Before Razor could utter any sort of protest, he was hit with the increased voltage. He grunted, convulsing in response to the current trailing throughout his body. The crackling of the electricity sounded painful, even from outside the room. "Got anything to say now?"

"Fuck… o-off," he said. "You'll never get a word outta me."

"And why is that?" Razor looked up, with moisture trailing from every possible orifice on his face. But the resilience was still visible within his eyes.

"Because… no matter what you all do to me… it won't be near as bad as what the boss'll do if I speak." The interrogator stood up, walking behind him.

"Then get really comfortable with this style of life." He made his way towards the door, but paused to collect the control. Giving it one last switch - this time, in the red - he walked out the room. Seeing Wesley and the Reapers, he simply shook his head. "Gotta say, haven't seen many this persistent."

"Why don't you just ask any of the others?" Alex asked. "Surely they won't be able to hold out like that."

"Tried. They don't even know who their employer is. _He's_ the only one that's ever even spoken to him."

"So then he's all we have to go off of?" Wesley asked.

"Unfortunately. Of course, it's better than no lead at all. He is a direct source to finding the second in command of this whole damn organization."

"But if he won't break…"

"Trust me," the interrogator replied, "he _will_. Every man has his breaking point - something that will drive him over the edge. It's only a matter of finding it."

"Alright. I'm counting on you to find that breaking point. As far as the government's concerned, this man doesn't exist, so use whatever means necessary to find out what he's hiding."

They exited the basement, leaving the interrogation chamber. "Well that sucks," John said.

"No," Wesley shook his head, "we'll get it outta him. In all the years we've had Nikolai working for us, he's never failed to get a man to talk. We'll learn who we're dealing with - only a matter of time."

After a following conversation, Michael left for his quarters. Only a few days left, and their first deployment would be complete. _Funny how the time flies when you're trying to avoid getting killed._ He hadn't made plans for the time he would be spending away from base. You could choose to stay there during your time off, but he couldn't think of any reason why he and the girls would possibly want to do that. Not when they could be spending their time elsewhere. _Maybe a trip back to Johto,_ he mused to himself. _I'm sure they would like that. And plus, it'd be nice to show Alaina around a bit._

He opened the door, and made his way to the couch, grabbing his laptop from the table. Checking his bank account wasn't exactly a huge necessity, but he habitually did it anyways. Especially now that he was considering a trip. He took a seat, propping his legs up on the table, and logged on to his account. Clicking on the checking account tab, he pulled up his current balance - Ᵽ78,330. Battling had become quite the moneymaker for them. And after transitioning into the military, there really weren't any bills to pay. In fact, the only thing they wouldn't cover was house payments, but he didn't have to worry about that. And that wasn't even close to what he had in stock. He had chosen to invest the majority of their earnings - after all, it was far better to have the money earning more rather than just sitting idly in an account. _Definitely enough to cover anything we could possibly do in four months._

But that left other questions unanswered. What should they do? Where should they go? _Maybe a resort? I'm sure they'd love that._ He had seen commercials for Cinnabar's main attraction - the Coastline Resort. _Hmm, that might be something they'd enjoy._ Michael looked into the resort's features. Prices were a bit above average, but it was far from something that would really hurt his bank account. And besides, when it came to the girls, he didn't really think about the money involved. _Rooms are good… we'd have to get two deluxes, though. Let's see… what all is there to do around there?_ Looking at the location, he found that they likely wouldn't be suffering from boredom - Cianwood City was within walking distance (or flying distance).

"What'cha doing?" Elise asked, hopping up beside him. He had already opened another tab, so thankfully she didn't see. _Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise._

"Nothing, hun, just checking my account."

"Oh. Everything okay?"

"Of course." He ran his hand down her sleek side, resting it on her back. She positioned her head on his shoulder, giving him a lick on the cheek.

"Come on, you've been sitting there for like an hour. Let's go play!" She ran to the door, impatiently pawing at it. He stood up and went to her, opening it for the unable glaceon. As the two of them walked outside and rounded the corner, they passed Thomas, who, by the looks of the ball in his hand, had just returned from battling. Titan was to his right side, and Ivy was on his left. But she was no longer a chikorita.

 **…..**

"Fold." Michael just couldn't take the risk. He had a pair of sevens, but the way John had thrown in almost half his pile… no, it wasn't worth following him up. John took the pile, before revealing his cards. Nothing.

"You son of a bitch!"

"Don't hate the player, hate the game," John joked. Thomas shuffled the deck, and dealt everyone out a new hand. He didn't make eye contact with Samuel when he handed him his; tensions were still high between the two.

"Ugh, this vacation will really do us all some good," John said. "Looks like we need a break from each other."

"You can say that again," Kevin added. "Anyone got any plans?"

"None here," Thomas said. "Probably gonna just go my parents' for awhile."

"What about you, Samuel?"

"I'm visiting my brother and sister. Probably spend the holidays over there."

"You two can be all boring if ya want, but _I'm_ gonna have some fun with my time off," Zeke said.

"Oh? What are you thinking about?" Michael asked.

"I'm hittin' the beach. The resort at Cianwood looks pretty good." _Hah, what are the odds?_

"That's funny," Michael said. "I was thinking about doing the same."

"Well it's definitely a well-known place. Maybe we should get neighboring rooms," he joked.

"Maybe. I'm sure the girls will love the place." Zeke looked at him upon saying this.

"That reminds me - has your little 'situation' been resolved?" He spoke in code because nobody besides him and Samuel knew about Michael's predicament with the girls.

"Yeah, it's all good now." Zeke leaned in closely, speaking quietly to him.

"So what did you do? Who'd ya pick?"

"Umm… it's kind of hard to explain. Long story short, all of them."

"You… can't be serious," he said aloud. " _All_ of them?" Michael made awkward eye contact with the others, hoping they weren't catching on.

"Zeke, shut the hell up…"

"Damn, dude - you're in business practically every day of the week!" _Annnnnd now they know._

"Oh, so you've finally opened your eyes?" Kevin asked. "And now you're boning all of them. Ha!" Michael glared daggers at him, making him shut up.

"First, don't _ever_ speak like that in reference to the girls again. Second, no, I am not 'boning' any of them. And third… yes, I have come to the realization."

"Well congrats dude," Zeke said. "They are _pretty_ hot." Thomas was keeping quite - at least this time, he knew that speaking of pokémon-human relationships as 'perverted' wasn't exactly a good idea amongst his comrades. "But I will say this though - I better not be kept awake during _my_ vacation time by any 'late night activities.'"

 **…..**

"Come on Ver, wake up," he gently said. The flygon rolled aside slightly, mumbling something unintelligible. "What was that?"

"Ten more minutes…" she said.

"Come on," he repeated, "everyone's eaten _lunch_ already. Way too late to be sleeping." She barely gave any acknowledgement to his words, and re-centered her head in the middle of the pillow, trying to doze once more. _Ugh, you difficult dragon…_ But suddenly, he got a devious idea, and a devilish grin spread across his face. "Alright then," he said, placing both hands on each side of her neck, "you feel free to take your time." With that, he kneaded the lower parts of her neck, and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

"Ahh!" she shrieked, quickly sitting up. Michael was already on his way out the door, but he managed to see, through his peripheral, the flygon's hands shooting to her lower region. _Maybe I took that a step too far…_ That was the first time he had intentionally done something like that to her, after all.

She left the bedroom short after, joining him at the table. Michael had made her her favorite sub sandwich: ham, salami, pepperoni, and turkey. No vegetables, or even cheese - just meat. She silently sat down and started eating, albeit with reddened cheeks. "What's wrong, Ver? You seem a bit flustered," he teased.

"You make me flustered!" she said after swallowing a large mouthful.

"Oh, lighten up - I was only having a bit of fun."

"Mhm. It's gonna be _real_ fun when I pin you down and have my way with you." Michael knew, generally, when the girls were kidding. But with the look in her eyes and the tone of her voice, this wasn't one of those times. "Mark my words - I _will_ get you back for that little stunt. It won't be today; it won't be tomorrow, but I will get you."

After she had finished, he decided that it would be a good time to tell them all of his proposition. "So I was thinking the other day," he began, "that since we've got some time off, we should go out and enjoy ourselves."

"You mean like leave the base?!" Charlotte asked. "That would be great!"

"We've been behind these concrete walls far too long," he said. "I think it's time we took some time off."

"Mhm, I think so too," Alaina said. "Where were you thinking about going?"

"Well, I was browsing the other day, and I thought maybe we could go to Cianwood."

"We're going to the beach?!" Elise just about shrieked.

"If that's what you all want, then—."

"Yes!" the glaceon replied. "Who doesn't want to go to the beach?"

"Ugh, the ocean is _so_ overrated," Charlotte said. "But the sand, the food carts, the ice cream… I could definitely get on board with that."

"And not to mention we could escape the winter weather," Alaina said. Only the northern parts of Johto and Kanto ever saw any snow, but the many other parts of the region could get chilly - even uncomfortably so. But of course, Cianwood, being one of the southernmost parts of the Johto region, never saw temperatures below the mid-seventies.

"I could definitely stand to do without that," Veronica pitched in. Being a dragon _and_ ground type, she really disliked the cold.

"Have you checked if there are any tournaments going on?" Layla asked.

"No… I haven't," Michael replied, "but I can check right now." He simply typed 'current Cianwood battle tournaments,' and quickly glanced over the results. "Looks like there's one starting in a week and a half - the Coastline Tournament. It's sponsored by the hotel."

"That's what I like to hear," his lucario said. "Count me in."

"So then it looks like it's all settled. When are we planning on leaving, Michael?"

"As soon as we can. So that would be in… three days."

 **…..**

There was an unnerving truth that lay within the nature of this whole "break." Michael was heading to Wesley's office in order to address that issue, after all. The issue that they never _truly_ were guaranteed time off. Yes, they may be told that they would be left alone for these four months, but the reality of it was that everything was situational. The other Reapers could only do so much - if there was a problem, then they could very well be called back into service.

Michael knocked on Wesley's office door. "Come in," the Commander said. He walked in, seeing him reading a newspaper behind his desk. 'Finally, Peace in Kanto' the headline read.

"I've come to submit my report." Michael had to create a detailed explanation of where he would be and when. That, and the fact that his every call, text, or email was monitored - very little privacy.

"Alright." His eyes skimmed over its contents. "Let's see… Cianwood and Johto mainland…"

"Yessir. Planning on hittin' the beach for a few months and visiting my parents."

"You're good to go. Just make sure that you're at HQ by twelve on March first."

"Gotcha." Wesley stood up, heading towards the door.

"Thanks for submitting your report some time other than the last minute. Still waiting on Kevin's." _Somehow I'm not surprised._ "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to go to. Nat and I gotta fill in for y'all over the months." Michael left his office, joining Elise outside. Wesley locked up behind him, tablet in hand. Elise nudged his leg, giving him a happy grin. He picked her up, much to her pleasure, and walked off. She really was clingy, but he didn't mind. Never did. He liked every moment with her - as he did with all of the girls - and enjoyed coddling her.

"Thank you," she said.

"Don't mention it, pup," he joked, before kissing her cheek.

"Get it in?" the familiar zoroark asked behind him. Michael stopped, waiting for Zeke to catch up.

"Yep, just did."

"Nice. Got your rooms checked out?"

"Not yet - I just told the girls about the whole thing. Which room did you get?"

"Room forty ninety-six. One of the deluxe rooms - they got a balcony and shit."

"Alright, I'll get two of the ones beside you," Michael said. "What's the availability looking like?"

"Gettin' kinda packed," Zeke said. "If I were you, I'd make my reservation tonight."

"Noted. How long are you planning on staying?" Michael asked.

"Eh, probably two months, maybe two and a half. What about you?"

"Same, but we might bump it to three. All depends on how the girls feel about it. Although, I do want to visit my parents for a few weeks. I mean, they _do_ live twenty minutes from the airport, and I'll be heading up there anyways."

"We're… going to see your parents?" Elise asked.

"I was hoping to… I mean, I haven't called them in months. It's not like I'm trying to keep them in the dark or anything, but I don't have much of a choice. They must be worried sick."

"Oh…" Her ears slightly drooped.

"What's wrong, pretty girl?"

"Nothing, I just… your dad didn't seem to care too much for us…"

"Oh." Michael knew what she was talking about - and besides, the glaceon seemed to be a great judge of character. "Dad just… isn't much of a pokémon type of guy. Or mom. Never grew up around them, or even gave a thought to having any. But I'll make sure that you all are treated well - if y'all aren't happy, then we can leave. I just thought it might be nice to stop by for a little bit."

"Okay." Elise seemed to be content with hearing this.

He left the zoroark to himself for the time being, going back to his quarters. After appropriating his funds out and figuring what he would be spending (a lot), he went ahead and booked the reservations.

 **…..**

Michael extended his hand, helping Layla up from the ground. They had reached a statistical stalemate, often alternating between wins and losses.

"Pretty good," Thomas said. He had been intently watching their combat, commenting from time to time. Ivy was knelt beside him, while the golurk was of to the side, still doing reps that very few humans could do.

"You got lucky with that one," she huffed. "I lost my footing there at the end."

"Sure, whatever you say," he teased. She took his hand, and before she had fully recovered her footing, harshly jerked him forward. He struggled to keep his balance, eventually running into the ropes. He quickly dodged to the side as she barely missed her charge. "That was a dirty trick, Layla."

"Whatever," she said, rolling her eyes. "I just hope you're ready to lose this one."

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen." He raised his fists, ready to block whatever the lucario may send his way. "Actually, I've been pulling ahead of you lately. I don't think you've got what it takes anymore."

"Oh, that's it!" She ran towards him and leaped, bringing her foot around in a roundhouse kick level with his head. He watched carefully as the swing approached, and ducked just as her foot almost connected with him. She sailed over him, unable to make contact. Instead, she stumbled into the ropes, much like he had done moments earlier.

"Not quite," he teased. "You're gonna have to be a little quicker than that." This time, she went for his side, opting for a punch. He dodged it and countered with one of his own, but was stopped - she caught his fist. Before he could yank it back, she sent her knee into his stomach. _Shit,_ he thought, _that hurt._ Not letting her momentary advantage go to waste, she gave him a sharp uppercut under the ribs. He was forced to take a knee due to having the wind knocked out of him.

"That's what you get for underestimating me," she stated matter-of-factly. _Alright, you cocky little…_ She caressed his cheek, and leaned in and gave him a passionate kiss. He was caught completely off guard by the action, and he wasn't the only one - out of his peripheral, he could see Thomas look away, likely in disgust. To some extent, he could agree with his disturbance at such a public display of affection - he wouldn't like it if any other couple started making out in front of him. And this was far from just a simple, quick kiss. Layla leaned what seemed to be her entire weight into it.

She finally pulled away, giving him a very lustful look, and he couldn't help but blush from it. "And that's what you get for putting up such a good fight," she said. This time, she helped him to his feet. Michael instinctively held his diaphragm, sore from her previous strike. But he very well knew that within minutes, there wouldn't be any sort of bruise at all. _All thanks to Alaina…_ The two of them left the ring; Layla went towards the water fountain, while Michael went to Thomas.

"Uh, sorry about that," he said. "She took my by surprise there…"

"…It's okay," he muttered.

"Yeah, all is well," the bayleef piped in. "It was definitely quite the show." She looked up at Thomas, who still seemed to be coping with the situation. "Although, I have to say I'm kinda jealous. Why don't you ever do things like that with me, Thomas?" Thomas stiffened up upon hearing this. The clatter of the bar dropping was heard to their left; Titan had been forced to rack the weights to avoid dropping them on his chest out of shock. After that, they all probably could've heard a pin drop in the room.

"Ivy…" the golurk said. Thomas looked at her, visibly uneasy with her question. The way he almost trembled from it led Michael to believe that not only was he nervous, but he was also scared to some extent. Thomas turned around and hurriedly walked out of the gym.

"Was it something I said?" she asked.

"You think?" Titan replied. "Come on, let's go." After the two had left, likely to go sort things out with their trainer, Layla returned, seeing her trainer all alone.

"What'd I miss?" Michael shook his head in disbelief.

"Probably the most difficult situation Thomas has ever been in."

 **…..**

Though Thomas's new dilemma was admittedly humorous for Michael (being that he had, just weeks ago, made his detestation of poképhilia very well known), he knew that he had no right to give his comrade trouble over the issue, and felt that he should keep his comrades oblivious to what had transpired in the gym. It wasn't his place to get involved in Thomas's personal life, and definitely not his place to get others involved. This situation was Thomas's, and Thomas's only - he had to deal with it on his own.

And Michael had other things to do than to be concerned with the affairs of other people. As he thought to himself about the hilarious irony of Ivy's question, he packed his bags for departure. They left tomorrow morning, and the group had decided to set flight for Violet City, as it was in the relative center of the region. From there, everyone would go their separate ways, and would reunite at the Blackthorn airport, and then fly back to the main HQ. At that point, they would be on stand by for any upcoming missions, but the fact of the matter was that they could very well expect a great deal of doing nothing once more. _But we've gotta be there just in case…_

He zipped up his backpack, finishing up all of their packing. _Whew, finally._ He took the large pack and set it by the front door, ready to leave the next morning. "All done?" Alaina asked from behind him.

"Yep. We'll be ready to go first thing in the morning."

"Great," she said, placing her hands on his shoulders. "I'm ready to leave this place."

"Well then you're in luck - next place we'll all be stationed is at the main HQ back in Johto. There's _much_ more to do up there, and the scenery is amazing. Built right in the middle of a mountain range. Not only that, but we can expect more time off. The others and I were thrown into one of the worst rising conflicts to date. Now that everything's pretty much settled, being operable is probably gonna be our most common task. "

"That sounds great." She embraced him from behind, setting her head on top of his. "That means we'll have plenty of time for other activities," the latias said, trailing a claw down his side. He didn't exactly know how to respond, so he decided not to say anything. "What?" she asked. "Too far?"

"A little…"

"Oh, alright, I'll lighten up a bit on you," she said, before ruffling his hair.

 **…..**

Veronica flew overhead, holding one of his two packs in her hands, and landed in front of the Chinook. She set it down and stretched her arms out. "Having your girl do all the heavy lifting for you? Shame," Zeke sarcastically said. Veronica simply ignored him, standing up beside her trainer.

Soon, the rest had arrived. Lillian paced ahead of Alex, her star-tipped tail swaying side to side. The luxray seemed happy, but then again, everyone was at the time. The black greninja followed closer to Alex, and avoided Layla's line of sight. _Bet he's still butthurt about getting his ass handed to him,_ Michael mused. _I mean, really - if he was going to take it so hard, then maybe he shouldn't have challenged a fighting type…_

"Alright, now that everyone's here, let's be on our way," Wesley said. They stepped onto the Chinook; without any medics or gun racks, they were all able to fit on board. _Good, I won't need to put them in their balls._ The hatch closed, the blades whirred to life, and the large helicopter lifted off of the ground. Elise pressed against his side nervously - she wasn't fond of aircraft. He placed his arm around the glaceon to comfort her. _I know everyone's looking forward to this,_ he thought as he looked around. _We need this… It'll be good to have some time away from all this conflict._ He looked at Kevin, who had his head tilted back, eyes closed. _I know he sure as hell is gonna enjoy this break…_ His unruly comrade would finally get to escape the confines of the military's regulations.

But Thomas on the other hand… Michael almost felt sorry for him. The large Reaper sat silently with his head in his hands, with Titan between him and Ivy. _It'll be a cold day in hell before they speak to each other over this flight…_ Thomas had to face something that Michael had to, but much more difficult - not only was he sucker-punched with the discovery of Ivy's affection towards him, but he had been presented wth a choice: either hurt Ivy's feelings, or defy his own principles. _Arceus, that would be hysterical. I bet Samuel would never let him forget about it._

"You got any plans over the break, Commander?" John simply shook his head.

"Not many. I'm just gonna take it easy while I can. I'll still have to check in on things from time to time, but I'll be relatively free over these next months. I ain't letting that go to waste," he laughed. "I'll probably be sleeping in for once. I expect that we'll all get the best sleep we've had in years." The other Reapers nodded in approval.

But looking to his side, and seeing Charlotte flash him a semi-suggestive grin, Michael knew - he knew that they would probably be making him put in a few "all-nighters."

 **…..**

After a relatively uneventful eight hour flight, they landed in Violet City's airport. They stood up and stretched out, but all were prepared to board yet another plane. This time, the girls would _have_ to go in their balls. Especially Alaina, who he had to return before the hatch even opened. He couldn't afford to be swarmed and possibly miss his flight. With his weapons in an enclosed box, he stepped outside; they would need to be separately transported as a measure of security.

"Boys," Wesley said after they had all gathered outside the main terminal, "I want you all to stay safe. Make smart choices - you are the most elite soldiers in the region; so I expect y'all to act like it. No bar fights, no accidents, no public intoxication - none of that shit." He paced to the side, and turned back to face them, continuing. "That being said…" The Commander stood fully erect, straightening his hand swiftly and bringing it over his brow. They all immediately returned the salute. "I hope you all have a great time. See you in four months."

They, saying their final goodbyes, began to scatter. "One moment, Higgs," Wesley called out as Michael turned to leave.

"Yes sir?"

"Your phone, please." Confused, Michael handed Wesley his cell phone, after unlocking the passcode. Wesley tapped away for a moment, before handing it back to him. On the screen, under the contacts section, Wesley had input his number. "Just in case I need to contact you, or if you have any questions…"

"Alright, I gotcha."

"I also wanted to say one other thing to you," he said. "I just wanted to inform you - since it does, y'know, _involve_ you - that I have spoken to others about your 'condition.'" _Oh no…_

"Uhh… How was the news taken?" Wesley gave him a lopsided grin

"Great - so much better than I could've ever hoped," he said, pointing at Michael. "With your intelligence, your savage instinct, and ageless physique, I think you could very well be on track to becoming one hell of a general - maybe even become the General of the Army. After all, you have eternity to move up the ranks." _Damn… he thinks that I could go that far? General of the Army?_

"I… I don't know what to say," he replied.

"Then don't say anything. Just think it over for awhile." He placed a hand on Michael's shoulder. "Son, you've got the potential to go further. When you've completed all of your deployments… well, please just consider it. There are more higher-ups than you know rooting for you, and with the CIC practically worshipping the ground you walk on, I think you have what it takes to lead the military in an uncertain future." Michael was shocked to hear this - somewhat flattered, even.

"Thank you," he finally said. "I will not let the respect of great men go to waste. I'll be sure to look int this."

"If you do decide to get on board, though, make sure that it's what _you_ want to do; don't just do it because it's what others want. This is a choice that you need to make completely in regards to your own interests."

"Alright, I understand…"

"Well then, I hope you have a great trip. You deserve it."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **And there we are! The next few chapters will be more eventful, and will include their stay at the Coastline Resort. That said, the lemons are very close, so stay tuned for the next two or three chapters.**

 **I always enjoy reading your all's feedback, ideas, and suggestions, so please consider leaving a review.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:**

 **Alright, so this was a bit of a more difficult chapter for me to write, as it sets up for a _lot_ of upcoming events. Anyways, huge thanks to Archangel2462 for reading over the chapters and pointing out dozens of mistakes that I overlooked. Made me really look closer at what I was typing, as well as edit my various previous mistakes. Thanks for being an awesome beta! Also, huge thanks to Umari Moon for offering tons of feedback, helping with the lemon scenes, and being a great pal in general! **

**Now the boring crap. I'm not associated with Pokémon or any of the products/companies in this story. I own the plot and my characters. That's it.**

 **If you enjoy reading, please consider leaving a review. Always love getting feedback of every kind from you all - it helps me better develop as a writer. Anyways, enjoy the tenth chapter!**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene (I know how long some of you have been waiting to see this label)**

* * *

 **"The most important thing in life is to learn how to give out love, and to let it come in."**

 **-Morrie Schwartz**

* * *

 **Ch. 10 - Heating Up**

Michael walked out of the plane, having to make two trips for their luggage. Veronica let herself out of her ball in order to help him, much to his gratitude. After retrieving his revolver, locked in its case securely, he declared it to the security guards as checked baggage, and they were off.

 _Finally,_ he thought, _a place with a somewhat decent temperature…_ Upon reaching the road, Michael pulled out his phone. "Sorry, Ver," he said as he looked up the number of the local taxi service, "you're gonna have to go back in the ball - just for the ride, y'know."

"C'mon," she complained, "why wait for a cab? We could just fly there."

"You can't be serious. You couldn't possibly carry me and the second pack." She glared at him amusedly.

"Is that a challenge?"

"No… I'm just saying that—."

"Nope, too late - this is gonna happen." She slipped her head through the strap, wearing the pack like an overweight necklace, and got down on all fours. "Are you just gonna stand there all day, or are you gonna jump on?"

"Ver… _really_?"

"Yes, really - now hurry up!" He obliged her, climbing on top of her back like they usually did for their flights. She bounded forth, then laughed herself off of the ground with her powerful hind legs. He held onto her sides tightly as they climbed higher and higher, extending their view to the city. _Wow… the lights look amazing at night…_ Neons and whites filled his vision, the stores and skyscrapers being their sources. Hopefully, while they were so high up, the dragoness wouldn't decide to enact her promised payback.

As they soared along the coast and towards the southern mountainside, city blocks gave way to coastal suburbs and beach houses. Clothes were still, even in these modern times, being hung out to dry on lines.

After a few minutes of guessing which way they should head, the two of them finally caught sight of their target. _The Coastline Resort… damn that thing's huge…_ The image online hadn't done the resort justice in displaying its size. Overlooking the cliffside coast, it was five stories, and composed of light-gray stone brick. A large fountain lay in the middle of the cobblestone driveway, which was filled with vehicles being parked by valets. Several pools of various shapes and sizes dotted the other side, but the most prominent feature was the large battle arena. Veronica decided that she was going to come in for a landing right in front of the entrance.

"Oh Arceus, Ver - _please_ watch out for the cars."

"Don't worry," she said with a smug look, "I've got this." Thankfully, she didn't decide to do a nosedive or anything risky, but she did fan out her wings, allowing for a rapid landing amongst the unaware crowd.

"Holy shit!" one man cried, while his adjacent girlfriend shrieked. He clutched his chest, gasping for breath.

"That was one hell of an entrance," a nearby valet commented. Michael got off of her back so that she could stand up. The flygon removed the pack from her neck, and they both entered the main lobby. Michael went ahead and released the others… except for Alaina. _I'm sorry, girl._ The last thing they needed was to be swarmed by the dozens of people around them. He went to the main counter, approaching one of the open receptionists.

"Hey there, I'm here to check in. I've reserved two rooms."

"Alright," the receptionist said. "Name and room numbers?"

"Higgs; rooms forty ninety-four and five." He tapped away at the keyboard, nodding in conformation.

"Yep, gotcha right here. Three months? Dang dude. That's gonna be twenty-three thousand, five hundred fifty." Michael handed him his debit card. The hit to his bank account was definitely rough, but he could take it. And it was only fair that he do something big for the girls - all this time, they had stayed by his side, always supportive and loving. They had all left behind their previous life of adventure to stick with their trainer, and he couldn't have loved them more for it.

The receptionist handed him back his card, as well as the pair of card keys for each room. "Enjoy your stay," he told Michael.

The five of them located the nearest elevator and stepped on. One other person was in there with them - a woman in her upper forties. "Kinda cramped in her," Veronica stated, earning a shocked look from the woman.

"That's just 'cause you're so big," Charlotte replied. The woman snapped her view towards the braixen. _Hah - she looks like she's seen a ghost!_ In a few years, when the translation technology was more widespread, maybe "talking" pokémon wouldn't come as such a surprise.

They got off on the fourth floor, and used the signs to locate their two rooms. "Well, here we are," Michael said, using the card to open one of the rooms. He flipped on the light switch as he entered.

The room released a quaint, soothing feeling. Two queen-sized beds lay in the center, a dark nightstand between them, which held a safe in it. _Good, I'll have somewhere to put my gun if I don't decide to take it out._ Of course, concealing his revolver wouldn't be much of a problem; he could most likely hide it in his pocket. But he surely didn't want to take the gun _everywhere_ , so the option was convenient.

Thin, white curtains draped over the sliding door to the balcony. To the side was a desk and dresser, the dresser having the television on it, while the desk had a coffeemaker. Now that they were alone, Michael released Alaina from her ball. "What do you girls think?" he asked. Before anyone said anything, Elise dashed forth, springing up and jumping on the bed.

"Mmm, these beds are comfy," she said, rolling around and ruffling the covers, then looked at them upside-down. "I got dibs on this one!"

"That reminds me - who's sleeping where?" The beds were easily large enough to hold two of them each, and Alaina didn't even require a bed. "Tell y'all what, I'm going next door to start unpacking. You five go ahead and designate the beds." He grabbed their luggage and headed to the adjacent room. The only difference between the two was that this one was a perfect inverse of the other.

A knock on the door sounded behind him as he unpacked. "It's open," he said. Zeke opened it and walked inside.

"How the hell did you manage to beat me here?" the zoroark asked. "My crazy-ass taxi driver was booking it at sixty - in the _city_."

"I flew here. Ver wouldn't have it any other way."

"Of course she wouldn't," Zeke said, shaking his head. "So anyways, whatcha think?"

"This place is pretty impressive," Michael replied. "Definitely liking the view."

"Yeah, me too. Can't wait to hit the pool bar outside. Probably gonna do that tomorrow."

"Oh no," Michael laughed. "I can't imagine you and alcohol being a good combination."

"Hey, I can handle my booze. You probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference between drunk me and regular me." _Hah, I bet that'd be a sight - a drunk zoroark._

"Ha, we'll just have to see, then. But please, for the love of Arceus, don't _aim_ for intoxication."

"No promises," Zeke chuckled. "Anyways, I'm gonna turn in for the night. Seeya tomorrow."

"Alright, 'night." Soon after the zoroark had left Michael to himself, Charlotte walked inside. "Hey, have you all worked something out?"

"Mhm. The others are sleeping in there for the night. Tomorrow, it'll be Elise's turn, then Ver's."

"You all are taking turns? But someone could be sleeping in that bed each night," he said, motioning to the bed that would now likely remain untouched.

"True, but this gives us privacy." The realization of this scheme took him by surprise. He couldn't be completely sure, but all the signs were pointing to intimacy.

"O…okay." He hoped that they wouldn't try anything, but if he was being honest with himself, he doubted that abstinence was what they had in mind. If anything, they were probably going to try and turn this vacation into a honeymoon of sorts. "But please, don't try anything tonight."

"Oh don't worry," she said, "I'll let you off easy tonight."

After showering, he slipped on a pair of gym shorts to lounge around in. As he prepared for bed, seeing Charlotte sitting at the edge waiting for him, he realized that she had no plan of using the other bed. "Mind if I sleep with you?" she asked. He was more reluctant to respond to these requests, being that he now knew about the deeper feelings that they had for him. It made him a little uncomfortable to know that the girls that wanted to get into his pants also wanted to get under his covers. _But… this is going to happen eventually… I might as well get used to this now._

"No," he eventually responded. He opened the drawer, about to get a t-shirt to put on.

"Please don't," Charlotte said. Michael froze, his cheeks reddening, but he obliged her, shutting the drawer back. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he mumbled. He peeled away the comforter, and got under the sheet and blanket. Charlotte set her stick on the nightstand, before switching off the lamp light. The braixen slipped in, but instead of positioning herself beside him, she got on _top_ of him, straddling his chest. She placed both hands on his chest, and, leaning forth, kissed him on the lips. He was a little shocked by her forwardness, but he had already allowed, and even _started_ , this with his two dragons and his lucario. It would only be fair to do so with her too. Michael returned the kiss, though it was made somewhat awkward with her pointed nose. As she opened her mouth to engage in more intimate contact, he felt her sharp fangs brush against his tongue. Charlotte, with her hands now to each side of his head, pulled him even closer, running her tongue under his.

They stayed like that for what seemed like minutes, only receding when they both ran out of breath. Charlotte clasped him tightly, panting warm air over his chest, but with a wide grin on her face. "That… was wonderful," she said.

"Glad you… think so," Michael said. Now that he was seeing her in this new light, Michael couldn't deny the fact that the fire fox was incredibly sexy. She kissed his neck, sticking her tongue out and lecherously trailing it up Michael's neck. She licked over his chin, and eventually reached his mouth again, ending with a slight nip to his lips. "Well that… was really hot," he said.

"Glad you think so," she giggled, echoing his previous statement. "I do want to ask you something, though."

"Go right ahead, Char," he said, tapping her nose.

"Why do you want to continue waiting?" she asked. "We've waited… we've all waited for so long. Is it about your commitment to 'saving it for marriage?'"

"…Yes."

"I mean, I agree with you on that," she said, "but don't you understand? It's like you're already married to us. We're gonna be together forever, and we've already waited so long." She looked at him with curiosity, wanting to know why he wouldn't pursue what she wanted. After a moment of silence, he spoke up.

"It's… mostly me," he finally admitted. "I mean, all of this is still relatively new to me. I just don't know how to go about these new feelings."

"Then try _acting_ on them," Charlotte said. "Let us show you. We may not have mated before, but we know what to do. Please…" the braixen pouted, almost seeming to beg.

"Oh… alright," he said, giving in. "But I don't want to try anything tonight, okay?"

"Fair enough," she said. "But could we go just a little bit further?" _Oh, for the love of Arceus…_

"How much further?" he asked, flustered by her persistence.

"Not much. Here - if you let me, I'll guide your hands." She took his hands in her paws. He didn't put up a fight; he gave in to her. She placed his hands on each of her sides, then slowly slid them down. His fingers passed through the tufts of fur on her sides, then were brought around to rest gently on her rear end. Her tail brushed his hands, then rested upon his left. "Mmm… see? That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

"N-no," he stammered. He couldn't quite grasp the reality that he was feeling her in such a way, but he was too paralyzed to move his hands. And Charlotte wanted this; if he did so, he might make her feel like he didn't want her in that way. So he remained still as she wrapped her arms around his lower back. She gave him one more quick kiss, and nuzzled his chest, falling asleep.

 **…..**

The next morning, he was far too fidgety to remain in bed. After listening to the braixen's breathing, and, knowing that she had a much slower rate when she was asleep, he concluded that she was awake. "Alright, you can stop pretending now."

"Aww, goin' and ruining my fun like that."

"C'mon, we've got a long day in front of us. There's a ton to do here."

"Okay, spoilsport," she teased. "But seriously, thank you for stepping out of your comfort zone bit last night."

"Don't mention it," he mumbled. She mashed their lips together, clasping his back. It was short, but passionate. She pulled back, and leaned close to his ear.

"When you're up to it… whenever that is, I expect nothing but the best. I want it to last for at _least_ an hour, okay?"

"O…okay…"

 **…..**

"So here are our options for today," Michael began, "we could go into town, and probably find something to do there. We could go to the pools outside; hit the food stands. Also, there's the arena in the back—."

"There," Layla said, cutting him off. "We should battle today! Arceus, it's been how long? Two years, almost, and the closest I've come is the occasional spar with some other pokémon on base."

"Yeah, and if we wanna participate in that tournament, then we'll need to practice," Charlotte said. "Don't you wanna give it a shot again, Michael?"

"I would be lying if I said I didn't," he admitted. "But… I don't think it would be fair to Alaina…"

"What do you mean?" Layla asked.

"Well… I had mentioned that I didn't want to be flaunting a legendary around. She'd have to stay hidden all day, unable to participate."

"Michael," she said, "I'm going to have to stay hidden no matter what. Please, let the others have their fun. I will enjoy watching them by your side."

"…Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't like to exclude you like this…"

"It's what comes with being a legendary," she said. "I'm sure."

But they weren't going to be fighting on an empty stomach. Before they left the building, and with Alaina using her invisibility, they headed down to the resort's buffet, where complimentary breakfast was being served from various stands. Veronica looked around the room excitedly. They weren't going to be making much money off of her this trip. Michael made three trips - one for Elise's meal, which she obviously couldn't carry, one for Alaina's, who whispered to him what she wanted, and finally, his own.

Thankfully, as they ate, nobody seemed to notice the food on Alaina's plate, which seemed to vanish into thin air. Rather, those that did look over at their table were more so appalled by the mountain of bacon that lay on Veronica's plate.

After they left, it seemed as though the girls could barely contain their excitement. After all, it was a chance to relive the dreams that they had all left behind for the greater good. "Come _on_ , Michael," Layla said, "we're burning daylight!" With the lucario hurriedly leading Michael along, they reached the arena in no time. As he walked through the entrance, he took in the sheer size of the facility. _Shit… this place is huge!_

The battle arena was closer to a stadium in size. Four battlefields lay in the center, able to undertake several battles at once. Three out of the four were already in use. The stands looked like they could seat nearly fifty-thousand, and with the four huge screens facing each direction, the viewers would be presented with quite the show. At each end of the field were large, open-sided tents, enclosing several laptops and tables. _That must be where we register for the tournament,_ Michael thought.

"I'm heading over there," he said to them, pointing at the station to his right. "My guess is that's where we sign up."

"Alright, you go ahead," Layla said. "I'm gonna check out the competition."

"Please don't start any fights," Michael said.

"No promises." Knowing he better hurry, he jogged down to the tent.

"Hello. Are you here to sign up for the tournament?" the woman asked.

"I sure am," Michael replied. "Mind telling me the rules?"

"Not at all." She took a pamphlet from a stack in the center of the table, and, opening it, began to inform him about the rules. "The rules are fairly simple: using no more than six pokémon, you must win battles to progress forward. There are no restrictions on types or species. In order to participate, you must inform us of how many pokémon you have, as well as their primary type. When battling, you and the other trainer must use the same number of pokémon; whoever has less on their team dictates the maximum number that can be used during that match. For the sake of time, though, no trainer may use more than three pokémon in the scoring rounds."

"Alright, that sounds simple enough," Michael said.

"Mhm. The way it works, though, is a little bit more complicated, so bear with me for a second." She turned the page, showing him the diagram of the tournament. "So for your first three battles will be the scoring rounds. There, the performance of your pokémon will be scored by three judges. The added score from the three battles will be compared with all of the other participants. The highest scoring sixty-four will be allowed to progress to the elimination rounds."

"Alright, and then the tournament will adopt a binary logarithmic system." The woman looked at him, completely confused by what he said. "Y'know, sixty-four teams, thirty-two, sixteen, eight…"

"Oh… okay... that's right. So would you like to join?" Michael nodded. Before he could start inputting the four names, he heard something that he never would've expected to hear.

"Go ahead and put me in, too," Alaina whispered from over his shoulder. _W…what? But I wasn't gonna use her… What about laying low?_

"Give me a moment, miss," Michael said. He went towards the walls of the arena, taking out his cell phone to avoid looking like he was talking to himself. "You want to participate, Alaina?" He couldn't believe her suggestion.

"I was thinking that maybe if you were about to lose, then…"

"But what happened to keeping you concealed?"

"Well, think about it. The people that wanted to hurt us… to kill us all off - they're gone now. There's nothing to be afraid of anymore. And even if there were… a life lived in fear is no life at all."

"That… that's true," Michael admitted. "But don't you think it would be a little unfair? I mean, you _are_ a legendary and all."

"Maybe… but you could use me as a last resort. Not to just sweep through others' teams. How's that sound?" He couldn't see the latias's face, but by the tone of her voice, he could imagine her giving him a pleading look.

"Oh, alright. But just as an ace up the sleeve, okay?"

"Sounds good to me," she chimed. He made his way back to the registration table, and picked up where he left off.

"Okay, I have five pokémon on my team."

"Alright," she said, hitting a few keys. "Primary types?"

"Let's see… fire, ice, ground, fighting… and dragon…"

"Wow, seems like a balanced team," she said. "Sounds like you'll get pretty far." _Oh, you have no idea,_ he thought. He knew how strong the girls were, and soon, the participants would too. "May I see your ID?" He fished it out of his wallet, then handed it to her. "One moment…" She held his ID up to her screen, tapped at a few keys, then nodded. "Alright, you're all set. Now your three scoring battles are being scheduled."

"Already?"

"Of course - the tournament starts in three _days_." _Well damn, looks like we got here just in time._ The small printer to the side whirred to life, then printed out a small slip. She tore it off and handed it to him. "Here you are." Michael took the slip and looked at it. _Let's see… what the hell?_ Their first opponent was a trainer by the name of Chris Osborn. He looked average enough. What was so surprising was the date and time of the match - six in the morning, four days from then.

"Why is my first match so _early_?" The others were at decent enough times - one at eleven, the other at five in the afternoon.

"Well, there's probably going to be around seven _hundred_ participants - there is every year. We have to fit all those battles into two week's time, so there's going to be some inconvenient match-ups. Sorry about that."

"I understand." Hopefully, the girls would too. But he doubted that they'd be uncooperative - after all, they were really pumped about battling again.

By the time he had made his way back to them, he noticed that Layla had already pissed another trainer off. He was a good three inches shorter than Michael, had a lankier build, and black hair. Behind him was a feraligator, a linoone, and a gligar - each looking equally as irritated. _Great…_ "Is something wrong here?" he asked, snapping both her and the trainer to attention.

"Is this shit-talking lucario yours?" By the tone in his voice, he could tell that Layla must've really struck a nerve.

"She sure is. What's the problem?"

"There is none," Layla shrugged. "He was practicing some moves. I just pointed out a few flaws and suggested some improvements. I think he took it as an insult to his manhood."

"I have trained my pokémon _very_ well," he said. "I bet you haven't won three gym battles like we have!"

"You're right," Michael said, "we haven't won _three_ gym battles, we've won twelve. And participated in two leagues." The trainer looked at him in shock, but then shook his head.

"You think you're more skilled than me and my team? Then how about you put your money where your mouth is?"

"Of course," Michael said, "as long as the girls are up for it."

"Hell yes!" Layla said.

"How's five thousand sound?" Michael asked.

"Five thousand?!"

"Mhm. Scared you'll lose?" Of course, he was looking _very_ insecure now. But he wasn't going to back down.

"Fine. You're on," he said through clenched teeth. "I've got the three you see here."

"Alright, so then I'll only use three." They moved to opposing sides of the last unoccupied field, their teams following them. Michael knew what the girls were capable of; he wasn't worried. _Alright, definitely using Layla, being that she's got a type advantage over one, and moves that can hurt all three. If she goes down… which I doubt will happen, then I'll follow up with Elise, then Ver, if shit really gets rough. Looking at them, though, I don't think that Ver will see this fight._ "I'll send mine out first," Michael said. He nodded towards Layla, who smiled and stepped forth.

"Alright, go on, Gligar!" _Looks like he doesn't name his pokémon…_ The type disadvantage didn't discourage him whatsoever. He mentally went over Layla's moveset. _Let's see… aura sphere, high jump kick, power-up punch, counter, water pulse, flash cannon, extreme speed, ice punch, and thunder punch. Yeah, we don't have anything to worry about._

"You can have the first move," Michael said.

"Fine. Gligar, use brick break!" The flying scorpion leaped into the air, making a loop and gliding straight for her. Michael formulated a plan to take their opponent out - get him on the ground and hit him with an ice punch.

"Layla, knock him out of the air with a water pulse!" The lucario's palms started to glow as she collected moisture from the air, and she took aim as the gligar approached.

"Gligar, don't let it hit you! Dodge it!" He whipped to the side, dodging before she could release her attack.

"Aim ahead of him, Layla!" She thrust her arm forth, launching the highly pressurized water at her opponent. The blast clipped the gligar's left wing, making it shriek as it wobbled in flight. It tried to regain its equilibrium, but its balance only worsened, and it fell to the ground rolling.

"Get up Gligar!"

"Layla, don't let him - hit him with an extreme speed!" She dashed towards him, kicking up dust as she went. Before her opponent could get to his feet, she slammed into him full-force, sending him right back to the ground. The gligar grunted as it staggered, trying to do something to stay in the fight. "Alright, finish him off with an ice punch!" As she walked towards the barely conscious gligar, the fur on her right hand froze stiff. She hauled back and gave her foe one last strike - a harsh punch in the chest. The gligar rolled over, face down, and didn't move. The trainer returned his fallen pokémon into its ball.

"Ugh... you're up, Feraligator…" Their next opponent looked somewhat unnerved with the competition, but readied himself nonetheless. "Hit her with a hydro pump!" As the blast of water approached her, Michael got an idea from his physics class.

"Dodge it and use thunder punch on the water!" Just as the water approached her, Layla spun to the side, avoiding the torrent. This time, electricity crackled through her hand, and she struck the water. Just as Michael had planned, the electricity zipped across the torrent, and sent the current through the feraligator. It immediately roared in pain and ceased its attack. _Shit, that thing took a nasty hit._ As her foe convulsed, Layla walked towards him. _I'm not so sure that Elise will even see this fight,_ Michael thought. Layla had that look in her eye - she craved more conflict, more fighting. And that feraligator didn't have a chance of stopping her from getting what she wanted.

"Feraligator, do something!" the trainer panicked. His pokémon, in desperation to do something, shot her with an ice beam. The attack hit her dead on; she looked aside, then shrugged and kept going. "U-use bulldoze!"

"Counter it," Michael said. Just as the feraligator's tail swept around, preparing to use the ground-type attack, Layla responded with her own move. She harshly brought her fist down on his tail, painfully forcing it to the ground. "One more thunder punch." She grabbed his red back scales and swiftly pulled them down, causing him to fall backwards. She raised her fist, which crackled with static once more, and slammed him with a sharp hook to the side of the face. Layla stood up, stretching her arms out.

"Come on now," she said tauntingly, "give me a _real_ fight." The other trainer went red with anger, sending out his final pokémon.

"Use double team! Don't let her find you!" Michael rolled his eyes. _Apparently he doesn't know that aura sphere never misses…_ The linoone fabricated over a dozen illusory copies of itself, surrounding Layla with the facades. "Hit her with a sand attack!"

"Layla… just close your eyes…" She shook her head; from what he could see, she seemed to be stifling laughter. She did as she was told, and the cloud of sand harmlessly impacted her. "Charge up an aura sphere!" She charged up the attack, using both hands to increase the size of the sphere.

"Now use headbutt!" All of the copies lunged inwards towards her. She stood still, knowing full well what was about to happen.

"Release it!" She shot the aura sphere, which zipped behind her, impacting one of the linoones. The others faded away, and the true linoone fell to the ground, out for the count.

"Layla three, asshole zero," the lucario said, beaming.

"Fuck off!" the irritated trainer said as he returned his last pokémon. Michael walked into the middle of the field, patting Layla on the shoulder.

"You did great out there," he said.

"Thanks. But now I need a shower. That sand got everywhere," she said frustratingly, before giving him a dirty look. "Maybe you could help me out with that." Michael rolled his eyes, but wasn't exactly surprised. He made his way to the defeated trainer.

"Well, looks like we won," he said, unsurprised with their victory, but shocked that Layla had managed the feat all on her own.

"Fine… here's your money." The trainer pulled out his wallet, then gave Michael his winnings.

"Thank you," Michael said, accepting the money. Had the trainer not been so rude to Layla, Michael wouldn't have accepted a thing from him. But with the tone he had struck with not only her, but his own pokémon, Michael didn't feel one bit bad about taking the money. The trainer walked off, with both his pride and wallet hurt. He turned back to Layla and smiled. "Girls, looks like we've still got it."

 **…..**

They all left the arena that night thoroughly exhausted. After witnessing the one-way battle between him and the hotheaded trainer, several others had wanted to try their luck at taking on the girls. All of them failed, some more miserably than others, and had felt the sting of defeat. Michael had won, by the time they were unanimously ready to call it a day, over Ᵽ13,000 - almost twice his monthly salary. Of course, that wasn't counting all of the military benefits (of which there were many), but it was still an impressive feat - at this rate, they'd be _making_ money from their vacation.

Alaina had, according to their plan, stayed invisible the entire time. Michael felt bad about her being left out, so he made sure to spend some alone time with her after dinner. If the time came where she wanted to battle, then she would reveal herself, but for now, they thought it best to continue laying low.

Showers were also a unanimous agreement. Since he knew that the hotel's complimentary hygiene products weren't going to cut it for their group, he made sure to buy several packs of soaps and bottles of shampoo for all of them. Once they returned, Michael took Elise into his room and bathed her. The glaceon sighed from his treatment, and seemed to almost fall asleep at several points of the bath. When all of the dust and dirt had finally been removed from her sleek, blue fur, Michael drained the tub. She shook her whole body, slinging water in each direction and wetting Michael in the process. "Thanks for that," he joked.

"Sorry…"

"It's okay, El. And besides, I'm getting in the shower anyways." After she had left the bathroom, he did just that. As he scrubbed the day's sweat off of his skin, he couldn't help but think about how well they would be doing in the upcoming tournament. _None of them even took a hit… we quit because they were tired, not hurt. I think we'll make it to the finals._

But among other thoughts, were of course, those of his girls. Was he ready to explore their new relationship? _Of course, the next level might just be pushed on me…_ He knew that at least four out of the five voiced the fact that they wanted to try, but he still wasn't so sure if he was ready.

As he readied for bed, he noticed that Elise had already burrowed under the covers. He joined her, seeing her light blue cheeks adopt a reddish tint. _Nice to see that I'm not the only one shy about this whole ordeal…_ He hugged her against him, pressing their chests together. She licked his cheek, and he could feel the rapid beating of her heart. She pressed their noses together; he could feel her cold breath against his face. "C…could I…" The words seemed to die in her throat. When he reflected back to it, the glaceon and he had been in such a position several times. The only thing different was that now they were both aware of what was going on, and there was nothing stopping them. Michael was the one to break the ice. He closed the small gap between their lips. The glaceon gasped, but settled into the kiss, her ears standing straight up in excitement. He felt her cold breath enter him; that, along with her sleek fur rubbing against his chest, and he was having to fight displaying his arousal. She pulled back, panting heavily for breath.

"Is that what you wanted girl?" he asked. She eagerly nodded, managing to work up the courage to lick his lips.

"Y-yes!" she shrieked. "It's… what I've always wanted." He tightened his grip on her, placing one hand behind her head, the other around her back.

"Sweet girl," he said, gently kissing her neck. "You know, I think this is something that I've wanted for awhile too - with all of you. I just didn't know it at the time." Staring into her deep sapphire eyes and seeing her wide, happy smile, Michael felt all past uncertainties melt away. Being with them like this… it just felt right. It was the only thing that ever did. Throughout the years, from the good times to the bad, they had always been with him. They had always been supportive and loving, and he couldn't thank them enough for it. "I love you, Elise," he said, before mashing their lips back together. She was more prepared for this one, and opened her mouth to receive him more intimately. Michael gently caressed her tongue with his. She wasn't interested in an oral battle of dominance; she just savored their kiss, as evident by her cute moans of enjoyment. _Oh Arceus,_ he thought, _I hope she keeps doing that. She sounds adorable._ The glaceon before him had captivated all of his senses.

But as their kiss deepened even further, with her sexily sucking on his tongue, Michael started to want something that he never would have thought - the result of ignoring any sort of romantic feeling for so long. A part of him wanted to go further. _But… Elise hasn't shown that she wants to go there… yet… And I don't think that I should be diving straight into this either!_ So he did what he knew for sure he wanted to keep doing - kissing her.

For what seemed like hours, the two danced under the covers, finding new positions to enjoy their new pastime. Only when Elise passed out did they stop.

 **…..**

"Hey man, where the hell were you yesterday?" Michael asked. Zeke just grinned.

"What? I told you I was hittin' the bar."

"True. But damn dude - you should've seen the girls yesterday. They fucked up every single challenger that came. We're gonna destroy the competition in the upcoming tournament."

"Woah, y'all are gonna participate in that?"

"Hell yeah. Why not? The girls can take whatever comes their way, and it's gonna be fun to relive our campaigning days - even if it's only for a little bit."

"I'd like to see that. When's your first battle?" Zeke asked.

"Our first tournament battle's in three days. But it's scheduled for six a.m." The zoroark looked distastefully at him.

"Why the hell would they book you for such an ungodly hour of the morning?"

"Lotta people. They've gotta have battles going practically every minute."

"Well I don't think I wanna get up _that_ early."

"Come on," Michael prodded, "it would do you good to get off your sorry ass. Come see how the pros fight."

"Hey, I'm sure I could take… well, Elise, right?"

"Yeah, sure," Michael joked. "But seriously man - it's much more fun to watch a fight where both sides aren't trying to kill the other."

"I'm sure," Zeke said. He looked aside, then nodded. "Alright, I'll come and watch y'all kick some ass." He went into his room, then grabbed a pair of aviators. "I'm going out to the pool. Care to join?"

"You're going back to the bar again, aren't you?"

"You know me well," the zoroark laughed. "Come on, I'll buy ya a drink." He questioned the zoroark's statement, but was interested nonetheless.

"I'm not exactly of legal age…"

"So? Who gives a fuck?" Zeke asked. "If you're old enough to become a damn war hero, then I think you're old enough to have a drink."

"The law doesn't see it that way…"

"But one of the bartenders does. I struck up a conversation with her yesterday. And I watched her serve a seventeen year-old a beer. You look old enough to pass - and besides, I've got my ways to convince others."

"Which would be?"

"Simple. We just go to another bar, and I'll touch up your appearance with an illusion." _I can't believe that we're actually discussing this…_

"I've never so much as touched a drink in my life," Michael said. "I don't know how much I can take."

"That's what I'll be there for. Go on and grab your bathing suit. This place has got some nifty pool bars."

"Should I bring any of the girls?"

"Nah man. You spend most of your time with them. You need to have some guy time."

"…Alright." He quickly went into his room and changed into his swim trunks and a white t-shirt. He made sure to grab a towel on his way out. On the way, Zeke made sure that they stopped by the resort's souvenir shop. Scanning over the display cases, he pointed to a pair of sunglasses.

"Dude, get these. They'll make you look older." The item he had recommended was a dark pair of Randolph aviators. _They've probably jacked the price way up,_ he thought. Looking at the price tag, and seeing them priced at Ᵽ250, he confirmed his suspicion. But they would serve as a good, useable souvenir, and they _would_ make him look older. So he had to make a trip back to retrieve the money from his wallet back in his room.

As he walked out of the store, he tossed the package in the garbage can. "Hell yeah, just like mine." Michael rolled his eyes at the zoroark's statement. The duo went out to the back, wading into the pool that Zeke specified. Michael removed his shirt, tossing it to the side. The water was decently warm, and Michael found that he had no problem adjusting. "Over here," Zeke said, motioning for him to follow. Michael drifted after him. They made their way towards one of the smaller pool bars in the resort. A blonde-haired woman, looking to only be a few years older than him, was conversing with another customer. She spotted Zeke, then smiled.

"Hey there, nice to see you again." She looked over at Michael, and though she tried to remain discreet about it, he caught her stealing a few glances over his form. "So you gonna introduce me to your friend?"

"Yeah. Cory, this is Michael."

"Nice to meet you," she said. "What'll you be having?" He looked over the options, but he didn't know where to start. Thankfully, Zeke stepped in.

"He's kinda new to all this. Get him a Heineken, and me a margarita. Charge 'em both to my room."

"Sure thing." She opened the mini-fridge to her left, and, grabbing a green bottle, flipped the cap off with a bottle opener. She set it down in front of Michael, before making Zeke's drink. _Damn… she didn't ask for ID or anything…_ "These were brewed nearby, so they're really fresh. Good choice for a newbie." Zeke looked at him expectantly.

"Well go ahead. Try it." Michael raised the bottle to his lips, then took an experimental sip. It tasted pleasant enough, and much milder than he would have expected. But then again, he wasn't exactly comparing it to anything, being his first sip of any sort of alcohol. "What do you think?"

"Not bad," he said, "not bad at all. Much better than what I was expecting."

"Good to hear," Zeke said as he sipped his own drink. He carefully picked the lime off of the glass and tossed it into his mouth.

They stayed there for over an hour, simply chatting at the bar. Michael was amazed by how many drinks the zoroark could down. Whereas he had only drank two beers, Zeke had knocked down _three_ martinis. _And those are pretty strong, too…_ By the time they had left, the zoroark was slightly stumbling. But other than few balance issues, Zeke was true to his word - he didn't seem otherwise affected in the slightest.

Just to be safe, Michael made sure to escort his friend back to his room. He ordered him room service, as he didn't like the idea of the zoroark going into the cafeteria alone. Once he and the girls had eaten and went back to their rooms, Veronica grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Come on, in we go," she said, somewhat forcefully. Once they were inside, she shut and locked the door behind them. They prepared for bed mostly in silence. Michael couldn't help but fear what she might do if she kept true to her word. As he finished brushing his teeth, she hoisted him out of the bathroom, throwing him onto the bed. _Oh Arceus… she's pissed…_

Before he could move, she pinned him down and slammed her mouth against his. In less than a second, she completely overpowered him, exploring his mouth while he was powerless to stop her. Not that he would, anyways. The flygon was dominant with her intimacy, refusing to let him move an inch. If she decided to take what she wanted, that would have been the time to do it.

But all she claimed was his mouth. Her wings were extended outward, and her tail curved over her body, but she only continued kissing him. His mind went blank as she scraped his tongue with her teeth. Veronica withdrew from him, flashing him a large grin. "You're _mine_ tonight," she said. "Mine to do whatever I want with. Do you understand?" He was speechless from her words, but managed a slight nod. "Good. Now you're going to find out just what you did to me that day. Of course, you know which day I'm talking about, right?" He nodded again. _Damn… looks like she hasn't forgotten…_

"Ver, I'm s—."

"Hush!" she hissed, cutting him off. "You're going to understand, and then I'm going to choose what we do tonight." She craned her neck, bringing their eyes only mere inches from one another. "Now, for starters, I _told_ you how sensitive that spot was. I _told_ you, and you went and teased me like that anyways." She growled at him, and he couldn't tell if it was out of anger or playfulness. " _Not_ cool. Not. Cool."

"You're right, Ver," he said, getting more worried by the moment, "and I'm sorry, I—."

"I wasn't done yet!" she said, interrupting him once more. "Here's a question - do you know what I had to do _after_ you pulled that little stunt?" He was almost scared to answer her.

"I… no…"

"I had to go in the bathroom and tend to myself," she hissed, her claws gripping him tighter. "You had pushed me into arousal… so much so that I had to restrain myself from pouncing on you then and there. But I knew that wouldn't work. After all, the others would fight me off, and I can't take them all. So I dealt with it myself." She leaned in even closer, touching their foreheads together. "But guess what? The others aren't here now." _Oh no…_ He was praying that someone would save him from the crazed dragon on top of him, but he knew that it was in vain. The door was locked; the others couldn't get to him. _Maybe… Zeke and my rooms have conjoining balconies. Maybe he could get in and… No, what am I kidding. He's probably out like a light, and he couldn't take Ver anyways…_

"Ver, look at me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"Damn _right_ you shouldn't have done that."

"I just meant it as a joke, and—."

"A _joke_? Really? That, my Michael, was _no_ joke. No, if you wanted to arouse me, then you should have been willing to see things through." She got up, pacing around the bed. Though she was no longer on top of him, he didn't dare move. "What am I going to do with you?" she asked, but mostly to herself. "I mean, I guess I could force you into a nice, long romp… But to be honest, I'd rather have you do it willingly. So here's what's gonna happen." She turned to face him, pointing a sharp claw at him. "Lose the pants or I'm cutting them off." The threatening glare that she was casting him made him know that she was serious.

Hesitantly, he slipped down his pajama pants, leaving him standing before his flygon in his boxers. Michael looked down, unable to meet her gaze as she took in the sight. "Mmm… that's what I like to see." He couldn't help but blush from her staring at him in such a way, but he said nothing. Veronica licked her lips, then grabbed him by the shoulders, this time pushing him to the bed more gently. She licked his cheek, trailing to his mouth and locking lips with him once more.

As strange as he found it, he couldn't deny the fact that he enjoyed her assertiveness. As her teeth scraped against his lips, she forced his head back, then went for his neck, dragging her somewhat rough tongue down his bare chest. _I hope she isn't… doing what I think she is…_ She continued down, trailing around his navel, and stopping at the edge of his boxers. The flygon gave him a dirty look, then skipped over and started at his knee. Pinning him down, she began upwards. _Ahh… she isn't going to let me off without…_ He felt a slight tug as she nipped at the lower hem of his boxers. Veronica slipped a claw inside, getting dangerously close. Before she went any further, she looked at him intensely. "I'm going to let you off the hook tonight. But don't think that you're in the clear. Next time, you will go through with this. Understand?"

"Y-yes…"

"Good." She rubbed his chest, lightly dragging her claws across him. Before she finally decided to let up, she ever-so-slightly nuzzled his manhood.

 **…..**

Michael drifted to the side of the pool, Elise happily keeping up, doggy-paddling behind him. She looked up at him and smiled, panting lightly. They had decided to go swimming for the day. Well, most of them. Charlotte expressed her inherent dislike of any water that didn't fit inside a cup, and decided to laze about on one of the large folding chairs near them. "Come on," Layla said, "the water's fine - warm, even. Quit being such a spoilsport." Charlotte shook her head without opening her eyes.

"I don't know what's so hard for you to understand," she said. "I'm not coming in." Michael rolled his eyes. He had been listening to them argue about the braixen's lack of desire to go swimming for almost an hour now. Elise seemed to be the only one focused on having a great time; as she nudged his side, he stroked hers, feeling the wet fur matted against her. She didn't have her hand on him at the moment, but he knew that Alaina was also close by. Layla had been swimming laps, treating it more like an exercise than an enjoyable pastime. But where was Ver?

He heard her roar, and was barely able to look up in time to see her come to a spiraling nosedive. The dragoness slammed into the water, creating a huge splash that startled several around her. But few people got wet - the way she had angled her entry had sent the vast majority of the water towards one particular person…

"Ahh!" Charlotte shrieked. The vixen had, despite her desire to remain dry, been completely soaked. "Ver, you… you bitch!" The flygon simply laughed, floating on the water's surface

"Lighten up. I was only having a little fun," Veronica said.

But her "fun" also had unintended consequences. Some of the water remained in the air, taking the form of Alaina's side and wing. "Oh no…" she said quietly. Before anyone managed to see her, Michael saw the latias's form fly towards their balcony in an effort to stay out of sight. Charlotte returned moments later with a towel wrapped tightly around her, slightly shivering. Michael got out of the pool and made his way to her, siting on the edge of the beach chair.

"Here," he said, helping to dry her off. The poor fire fox had been drenched by the wave, with her white and orange fur sticking together in thick strands.

"Th…thank you."

"Don't mention it," he said. "Ver was just playing around. She didn't mean anything by it."

"… I know," she sighed. "But still, it's pretty annoying…"

"I'm sure it was." He looked aside, seeing the dozens of tables in front of the outdoor restaurant, and got an idea. He went up, and, after standing in line for a few minutes, ordered something. He returned to Charlotte with an ice cream cone. "Here you go."

"Oh, oran berry! Thank you!" The vixen immediately got to work on devouring the ice cream. Michael rubbed her still-wet back, then went back to the pool. He waded back in, feeling Layla brushing up against his side.

"Finally ready to have some fun?" he joked.

"I was having fun," she countered.

"I think that much exercise was a bit excessive…" She shook her head.

"No - I was thinking about how bad we're gonna beat the others in the tournament." _Hah, typical Layla. Always stoked for the competition…_ She grabbed his hand, and led him off towards the deeper end of the pool.

 **…..**

Michael was about to remove his bathing suit, preparing for the shower, when Layla opened the door. _Oh shit… I thought I locked that…_ She wordlessly tossed her towel to the side, moving closer to him. _What is she…?_ "Mind if I join you?" she asked.

"I-in here?"

"Mhm." A multitude of thoughts were racing though his mind, but he didn't voice any of them. She must have taken that as clearance, as she walked past him into the shower. That made it so that he _had_ to join her, lest he hurt her feelings by walking out. Hesitantly, he joined her, now deciding to leave his swimming trunks on for the sake of decency. Seeing this just made her roll her eyes. "You know, you need to let loose a little." She embraced him, nuzzling his stomach as the water impacted them. "If you like, I could help you do just that." He felt a wayward paw rub down his side, stopping on his inner thigh.

"Let's….j-just finish the shower," he said.

"Alright, fine…" Despite this, though, she didn't refrain from giving him suggestive looks, or giving him exposing views. He had to fight himself to keep from looking. Though he had come to terms with the fact that he sure as hell wouldn't mind taking things to the next level, a part of him still felt that he should wait, at least for a little while longer.

Once they got out and dried off, he prepared for bed. Layla wouldn't let him put on anything besides his briefs, much like Veronica the night before. She sat on the side of the bed, waiting for him. When he got close, she stood up, wrapping her arms around his midsection, and locked lips with him. The two of them quickly engaged in an oral battle of dominance. Before long, Michael found himself losing that battle, with the lucario over him, straddling his waist. She pulled back, then leaned in closely to his ear. "All that's keeping us apart is one tiny layer of clothing." She licked his neck, nipping at his ear. "Come on. You can do whatever you want with me…" Turning over, and keeping mind of her chest spike, she lay on top of him, with her back to his chest. Looking up, she engaged in another passionate kiss with him, stroking his cheek.

Michael's vision was filed with the lucario, from her beautiful face, still in contact with his own, to her hourglass figure, and finally, to her tight, muscular legs. Her tail lay on his leg, and her legs were spread. He couldn't see her nether region from the angle he had, but he wasn't straining to do so, either. "Don't leave me waiting," she said. He slowly rubbed her stomach, trailing his hands down her sides and cupping her rear. "Ah… there you go," she sighed. "You're just… an inch or two away…"

But he couldn't work up the courage to go any further.

 **…..**

With one day left before their first match, Michael and the girls engaged in a few more practice battles. Their practice was more so for the elimination rounds, as they felt that they would be participating in them. After all, no trainer had managed to knock out a single one of them ever since they got back into the swing of battling. Without cares and without fear, they could all agree that this had been the most fun they'd had in years.

But Michael couldn't help but feel bad for Alaina. She was her usual, loving self, but he knew it must be hurting her to have to remain hidden day in and day out like this. The latias never showed it, and the pain was not apparent in her voice, but he knew it must have been there.

But he didn't know that on that very night, something would happen that would make up for all of it.

 **…..**

Michael was sitting on the heavily cushioned chair on his balcony, watching the sun set over the expanse of the sea. The only sounds that permeated the air were those of the few wingulls that were flying about, nothing more than dark silhouettes against the orange sky.

Alaina was on his lap, finally able to relinquish her invisibility. It would be far too difficult for someone to spot them there; they were well outside of the general view. She wasn't focused on the impressive scenery before them; she only stared into his eyes. It took him a moment to catch on, but it struck him as odd. "Why aren't you enjoying the view," he teased.

"I am," the latias said, nuzzling under his chin. "Come on, let's go to bed." She led him back inside, gently holding his hand. He went through his evening routine, preparing for bed. As he walked back in, shirtless, and set the alarm, he saw her staring down steadily. She looked up at him. "We… had a meeting today," she said, almost under her breath.

"Oh? How'd it go?" He sat beside her cross-legged.

"Well… you know I can't talk about anything that goes on in there. And besides, it wasn't anything to exciting. No, what I want to talk about was what happened after the meeting."

"Alright," he said, starting to grow somewhat concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"No… quite the opposite… But I think I should tell you what's been going on ever since that fight with my mother." Michael's blood began to boil at the thought of the rude latias that tried to control her daughter. Best intentions be damned - a life lived in chains wasn't much of one at all.

"What's been going on?"

"Well… I haven't attended the last three meetings. I told her that day… told her that if she didn't let up on me, that I would leave for good, never to see her again. I don't think she believed me, or at least, until it looked like I had kept to my word."

"And you saw her this morning?"

"Yes," the latias said. "Her and my father."

"Does she… know about all of this?"

"Mhm. Does now. I told her about the imprint, about our relationship - even about the others. But more importantly, I told her about you. I told her that no matter what she said, no matter what she wanted, I had made up my mind, and I had chosen for myself."

"What did she say about that?" She looked at him, seemingly still surprised as the words left her mouth.

"She… apologized. Apologized for it all."

"She did?" Michael couldn't believe her - not after his encounter with the older latias.

"Yeah… she did. Dad had talked to her. Explained to her that my life was my own to live, and that if I was happy with my mate, then she should be too."

"Wow… that's great!" he said. "But… seriously… I think hell just froze over."

"I know!" Alaina said, laughing. "But there's more. They _both_ blessed our union!"

"Really?"

"They sure did." She gripped his hand tightly, bringing it to her mouth and kissing the back. "But that brings me to my next point. We haven't been unified yet."

"We haven't?" he asked her confusedly.

"No," she said, shaking her head.

"But the imprint…"

"The imprint is what you might call an engagement of sorts. In order for us to become one, though…"

"Oh…" he caught on to what she was saying. The others had asked to go further with him, or make out until they succumbed to exhaustion, but now, Alaina was asking to take the ultimate step in their relationship.

"I know this is all still new to you. I'm surprised we've made it as far as we have, to be honest," she said. "But I'm asking you now… to come together as one." Michael's cheeks flushed from her request. She had been outright and open with him, asking that they do what he had been putting off. Was he finally ready - ready to do this with a legendary?

His mind cleared as she pecked his lips. The kiss was neither long nor deep, but passionate and sweet in its own way. She brought her amber eyes level to his. "Please…" Michael gulped, but stood up. He unbuttoned his shorts, pulling them down and stepping out of them, revealing himself to her in the same way as he had Veronica and Layla. But this time, things would be different… He tried to continue, but his hands were slightly trembling.

Alaina made her way over towards him. She grabbed his hand once more. "Hey… it's alright. I'll be here with you every step of the way…"

"O-okay…" He nodded, giving her the permission to do as she pleased. The latias smiled softly at him, giving him one more quick peck before lowering her hand.

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\**

She caressed his manhood though his boxers, causing him to gasp. She giggled at his reaction, continuing to rub him through his underwear. "Does that feel good?" she asked.

"Y…yes…" Truth be told, it felt _great_. Alaina rubbed along the length of his hardening member, resting her hands on the hem of his briefs. Slowly, she pulled them down. His breathing ceased as he was fully revealed to his latias, who smiled in response.

"It's perfect," she said, wrapping her hands around the base. Michael closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of her touch. "Just perfect," she said, leaning down and briefly kissing the tip. She took the head into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it, and released it, giving it a final nudge with her nose. By this point, he was completely erect. "Maybe we could try other methods some other time," she said, hovering over the bed. "But with us both being so new to this, I don't think we'd last long. So let's jump straight into it." Alaina lay on her back, in the center of the bed, revealing her own sacred area to him.

He couldn't remove his gaze from her lower region. Her small, tight red lips stared back at him, just begging to be parted, and her sincere, loving look further enticed him. She draped her hand lower, spreading her folds for him, revealing the pink of her flower. "I want you to take me," she said. Her eyes were clouded with lust and love.

He couldn't believe this was about to happen. Part of him didn't think the situation was real, but the scene before him revoked that possibility. And regardless of what he thought, there was no turning back at this point. Gradually, he climbed on to the bed, over his latias. She grabbed his head, pulling him closer and mashing their lips together. Out of all the times he had locked lips with the girls, this was by far the most passionate kiss he had experienced. She licked every corner of his mouth; he savored the taste of his claimed mate. He knew now… knew that he was ready. Knew that it was time.

Michael reached his hand downward, clasping her own. Alaina smiled at him, moving hers so that he had entry. Mentally reassuring himself, he rested his hand on her most intimate area. "Ohh…" she moaned, pushing into his hand more. He spread her folds, much like she had done moments before, then gently prodded her inner walls with his middle finger. _She's… so tight,_ he thought. It seemed as though her sex was trying to suck his finger in, pleading it not to leave. And the radiating warmth, coming from the inside, served to further his newfound desires. "Please," she gasped, "I want to be filled with you."

He removed his finger from her tight entrance, lowering his waist to replace it with his manhood. His cheeks flushed as their members touched, while he stared into her eyes. It would be a missionary for their first time. "Th-there," she said. "Go on - I'm yours." With one hand, he embraced her and pulled her against him; with the other, he held hers tightly. But as they shared the tender moment, the latias being willing and waiting, he could not bring himself to take the final plunge. "Michael? What's wrong?" He looked at her, nervous beyond belief for their first time.

"I… I'm not so sure about this," he nervously said. "What if I don't do well? What if you don't like it?" She instantly claimed his mouth, but opened her own, enticing him to enter with her tongue. He did so, tasting once more the legendary dragoness. He felt her arms reach under his, clasping his back and pulling him even closer, making his member spread her folds.

"Don't," she whispered, "don't say things like that. You will be wonderful, my mate - I will enjoy every second of this."

"But it'll hurt you…"

"True," she nodded, "but this is the best way a girl can be hurt - by giving herself to the one she loves. I will be fine." She pressed her cheek against his, leaning in towards his ear. "Please, Michael…"

"A…alright…" He pushed forward, further spreading her lips apart, and felt as his head peaked into her untouched cavern. _Oh… Arceus…_ As he felt her vagina stretch to accommodate his size, he knew it was going to be a tight fit. Pushing further, he managed to slip his head inside of her, making her moan in pleasure.

"Oh… yes!" she cried. "K-keep… going…" Slowly, he added more of himself to her, making the latias gasp for air. _She's… so t…tight…_ As her sex squeezed his member, his tip pressed against her barrier, making Alaina wince in pain.

"Alaina… are you sure about this? Is this what you—."

"Yes," she said, "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. Take me." For the first time that night, Michael took control, claiming her soft lips in an effort to add some relief to the pain she was about to feel. With a final thrust, he hilted himself inside her, breaking through her hymen and even slightly permeating her womb.

"Ahhhh!" she wailed, tears forming in her eyes from the intrusion into her depths. Michael hated seeing her suffer like this, but couldn't deny the fact that she felt amazing - he had to fight to refrain from cumming on the spot. Despite the tears streaming down her face, and the blood seeping onto her red down, she smiled at him. "I… love you so much," she said.

"I love you too, Alaina." His member throbbed inside of her, reminding him that there was still a job to be done.

"I'm ready," she said, "please continue." He pulled back, leaving only the head inside, before hilting inside her once more. Setting the pace, Michael began plunging in and out with slow, deep thrusts. Feeling the latias's tongue on his collarbone, the friction her smooth down provided as he slid across it, and the way her vagina gripped his member, he knew that he wouldn't last but a few minutes. "Oh Arceus," she moaned, clasping on to him as though for dear life. As his balls contacted her short tail, he felt her fluids trickling down.

"Michael," she cried, their bodies making together, "g-go faster…" He obliged her, slamming in as quickly as he possibly could, resulting in a steady smacking sound as their hips slammed together. "AH! Th-there!" she said. His faster pace made her quiver, and he could feel her get even tighter. He was getting more and more soaked from her leaking fluids, loving the feeling of her essence covering his thighs. As he slammed in and out of the latias below him, he couldn't resist the urge to claim her neck. Breathing heavily, tears of pleasure and joy welling up in her eyes, she released a long, drawn-out moan. "Michael, I'm… s-so close!" she said, signaling her approaching orgasm.

"M-me too," he gasped, lightly nipping her neck. She craned her neck down, giving him a deep kiss. Their tongues danced; Michael withdrew and looked into her eyes, gazing into the soul of the latias he had come to love. Her warm breath came out in gasps onto his face, and her cries of pleasure were the most melodious things he had ever heard. It wasn't long before she slammed their lips together once more, moaning into his mouth as her lower lips contracted around him and sprayed her essence over him, refusing to let him withdraw. Not that he would have, anyways - with a deep hilt inside of her, he released his own orgasm, sending rope after rope of his seed into her womb.

The two held onto each other tightly, covered in sweat, panting hard and basking in their afterglow. The reality of what had just happened hit him like a freight train. _I just… deflowered a legendary…_ He could hardly believe that their lovemaking had occurred, but the evidence was right beneath him, still holding his member deep within. Their combined fluids covered both their lower regions. "You have… made me the… happiest girl alive," she said, the words coming out in long gasps. Unable to speak, Michael rolled over, still connected to her, resulting in her being on top. He exhaustedly reached over to the nightstand, and set the alarm back an extra fifteen minutes. A morning shower would be a great idea, less he start the day still covered in their sexual fluids. With Alaina cuddled into his chest, he watched as she fell into a deep slumber. Michael pulled the covers over the two of them, running his hands down her sides, and followed her into the realm of sleep.

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* * *

 **A/N:**

 **And that's a wrap! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and its more... _sensitive_ nature. Please consider leaving a review - I'd like to know how I did on my first lemon scene, as well as your all's thoughts on the chapter in general. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:**

 **Well, here we are with the eleventh chapter! Definitely was an... interesting chapter to write, to say the least. Still coming to terms with the fact that I'm writing lemons; hopefully I'll get more used to these kinds of scenes. Now, an important thing that I feel that I should mention: Michael _does_ have five girls, and that will leave room for a lot of lemon material. But always know that the lemons will come _after_ the plot for my stories. Action/plot first, sex second.**

 **I don't own Pokémon or any of the products in this story; all I own is my characters and the plot. Do I even need to include this obvious disclaimer at the beginning of each chapter?**

 **If you are enjoying the improved quality of this story, then you can thank Archangel2462 for being an awesome beta. He has contributed great effort to reading through this entire story and pointing out the dozens of grammatical mistakes in it.**

 **Also, thanks to Umari Moon for peer reviewing the lemon scene, for giving me great advice for the lemons to come, and for being a great pal in general.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"If at some point you don't ask yourself, 'What have I gotten myself into?' then you're not doing it right.**

 **-Roland Gau**

* * *

 **Ch. 11 - Dragon Riding**

The shrill cry of the alarm made the two of them jolt awake, wondering what had happened to their previously peaceful world. Using her telekinesis, Alaina slammed the clock into the wall, causing it to quiet down. Upon collecting their thoughts, and remembering that they had somewhere to be, they removed the covers. Still connected from the night before, Alaina reluctantly slipped off of him, removing herself from his now flaccid member.

They showered together, helping one another remove the evidence of their lovemaking the night before. The latias was all smiles throughout the process, wrapping her arms around him, and all in all making the process difficult, albeit in a loving way. They had to repress the desire to have a quick morning romp; there wasn't enough time, and they had somewhere to be within the hour.

Once he had gathered the girls, he approached Zeke's door. Before he could knock, the zoroark walked out. "Nice to see you're awake on time," Michael said.

"I was awake the second I heard you hit the wall so hard," Zeke snapped. "Seriously, what the hell was _that_ for?"

"Sorry," Alaina mumbled, "that was my fault."

 **..** **...**

Rules were rules, and the girls had to go in their balls unless called out to battle. The black skies were gradually becoming lighter, but the large stadium lights were still needed. The stands were hardly occupied - very few people wanted to come watch at such an hour. But nevertheless, the interior was active, having each of its four battlefields occupied.

Their opponent looked to be around thirteen years old. He absentmindedly tapped a ball at his side in anticipation for the upcoming match. Upon looking up at the screen portraying their battle, Michael noticed that his opponent had, in fact, only one pokémon. Next to each candidate's name was six slots, each showing the main type of the pokémon. His was grass. _Alright then, Elise it is._

"Alright battlers," the referee said, "I want a good, clean match. Are you both ready to start?"

"Yes," they both said.

"Then head to each side of the field and begin." They nodded; shaking hands, they each made their way to their own side. Michael looked up at the screen. Each trainer had their name on one half - the side corresponding to their position on the field. His name was to the right, and he had been selected to send out his pokémon first. He pulled out the luxury ball, clicking the central button on it and releasing Elise. The glaceon looked back at him and smiled. At the other end, Chris looked down nervously, but released his own pokémon.

Barely over a foot tall, a turtwig materialized before them. Elise looked back at Michael questioningly. "Umm… he's not very…"

"I know," Michael responded quietly, "just tone it down a little, okay?"

"I will." She faced her foe, lowering her front as though ready to pounce. Elise had, by far, the least diverse moveset of all the girls, knowing ice shard, ice beam, frost breath, barrier, mirror coat, shadow ball, and, of course, her powerful blizzard. But where she lacked variety, she made up in her control over her attacks. That, as well as the type difference between her and her opponent, made it obvious who the winner would be. However, simply winning would not be enough - they had to score well, too. Michael, though, was confident that the girls could cut it.

"Turtwig, use razor leaf!" Chris shouted, interrupting him from his thoughts. The small turtle sent a barrage of green towards the glaceon.

"Counter it with ice shard," Michael said. Elise formed dozens of small, icy crystals, then launched them straight ahead. The leaves were shredded apart in midair from the sharpness of her ice in a beauteous display of shimmering particles. But this ice shard was noticeably slower than her others - Michael knew her well enough to see that she had held back on the attack. If she had wanted to, she could have sent them with much more force, probably nailing the turtwig in the process. Despite this, though, the remaining shards fell barely short of his location, making the grass-type jump back in fear.

"Don't back down," Chris chastised. "Hit her with a headbutt!" The turtwig ran towards her, trying to deliver upon his trainer's command.

"Elise, hit him with a shadow ball." The glaceon nodded, charging up a violet orb and sending it towards him with a nudge of her head. The attack impacted the charging turtwig, stopping him mid-dash and making him fall limp, sliding a few feet before coming to a halt. The battle hadn't even lasted thirty seconds. The judges looked confusedly at one another.

"Well that wasn't worth missing two hours of sleep," Zeke said, yawning. "I'd barely call that a fight." Michael glared at the zoroark, hoping the kid hadn't heard. Luckily, he hadn't; instead, he was focused on returning his fainted pokémon. "What? I was just telling the truth."

"Just because you _can_ say something doesn't mean you _should._ "

Moments later, all eyes were on the screen, as scores were being displayed under each trainer's name. Under Chris's name, the three numbers appeared - 2.5, 1.8, 2.0. _Ouch,_ Michael thought. Scores like that made it nearly impossible for the young trainer to make it to the elimination rounds, and Chris's downtrodden face made it evident that he knew that. Seconds later, Michael's own scores appeared. Three tens. _Woah, shit! A perfect score on our first match?_ Elise gawked up at the screen, then turned around and sprinted towards him, leaping up into his arms upon meeting him halfway.

"You did it!" Michael said. "You got perfect scores, El!"

"I-I'm so ha-happy!" she yipped, quivering from excitement. Though their competition was far from the best, he was proud of her and how skilled she had become. The beaming ice-type in his arms was the most adorable thing he had ever seen, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her. But such an action likely wouldn't be very well received in Johto, and they both knew it. So he simply hugged her tightly, to which she nuzzled into his neck.

 **..** **...**

Michael wouldn't have been able to sleep if he didn't treat the giddy glaceon for her success. Since she had prevailed in her match so well, she was allowed to pick what they would do for the day. That led to where they were now, relaxing on the coast. Michael and Zeke, both with their aviators on, were reclined in a pair of folding chairs, only a few yards away from the foaming sands. Michael was exhausted from the hours spent with the hyperactive glaceon in the shallows, and fought the urge to fall asleep on more than one occasion. Beside him, Veronica was laying face up, dozing and basking in the warmth of the sun. Charlotte sat in his lap, finishing off a hot dog he had bought for her from a nearby vendor. When she was done, she lay back, using the crook of his neck for a pillow. He looked down, seeing a sight besides her beautiful vulpine face that made him grin in amusement.

"You got a little mustard on you, Char," he said.

"Huh? Where?" He dabbed her nose, removing the small yellow spot. "Oh, thank you." She took the tip of his finger into her mouth, sucking on it sultrily.

"Not here," Michael said. After all, they were in public, and there were kids around. The last thing anyone needed to see was him and his braixen getting into the beginning stages of intimacy in the middle of the beach.

"Fine," she said, "but back at the bedroom—."

"You won't be doing anything there, either," Ver said, cutting her off. Apparently she wasn't sleeping after all…

"What do you mean?" Charlotte asked.

"Exactly that - none of the rest of you are to so much as touch him there until I've had mine." Zeke looked over, having to stifle his laughter.

"You aren't the boss of me," the braixen retorted. "I'll do whatever I want with _our_ Michael."

"Not until I've taught him his lesson," Veronica simply stated.

"Huh," Zeke said to Michael, "sounds like BDSM, if ya ask me."

"No," the flygon said, "but he needs to pay for what he did."

"But… that means we won't be able to do anything for… another five whole days! That's not fair!" Veronica rolled on her side, shrugging at the braixen.

"Well then I guess you better switch nights with me so you don't have to wait so long." Charlotte let out a lowly growl, angry that she couldn't have her way. But, waiting two nights _was_ better than waiting five.

"Fine," she she said through clenched teeth. "Michael, in two nights, we're going to have the best sex ever, alright?"

"You all do realize that I am right freaking _here_ ," Zeke said. "For the love of Arceus, say that kind of stuff _behind_ closed doors."

"Stay outta this!" Charlotte snapped.

"Well then don't say that shit around me! I mean _damn_ , I'm just here trying to relax, and you all start talking about how you're gonna handle him under the covers!" Charlotte spun to face him, swiftly pulling out her stick and setting it ablaze, and thrust it near the zoroark, making him go silent.

"One more word, Zeke, and I'll turn you into ash." Zeke, acting in his best interests, didn't say another word. When Charlotte had finally turned around, resuming her argument with Veronica, Zeke looked at Michael, giving him an irritated look. Michael simply shook his head, laying back against the chair.

"I think you need to learn whose in charge here," Veronica finally said.

"Definitely not you, lizard!"

"Watch your tone with me, fox!" Veronica replied, sitting up. "Maybe I should throw you into the ocean to teach you some respect."

"Girls, please," Michael said, hoping to deescalate the two of them. Fortunately, it worked, and the two quieted down. "Ver, what's with you? Is something wrong?"

"No," she curtly stated.

"Yes," Charlotte said. "It's that time of the—." Veronica stood up, stomping loudly, and grabbed her, lifting her up by the shoulders.

"Go on!" she roared. "Finish that sentence! I dare you!" _So that's why Ver's been on edge lately - she's in heat…_ Looking around, Michael saw that they had become quite the center of attention, catching glares from all sides.

"Ver…" Michael said, hoping the flygon would calm down. Charlotte murmured something unintelligible.

"What was that?!" Veronica asked.

"I said… maybe, once your heat has gone away, you'll stop acting like such a tyrannical bitch!"

"Oh, that's it!" Veronica yelled.

"Ver, put her down!" The flygon turned to face her trainer.

"You know, that's a great idea!" With that, she hauled back, readying herself to throw the braixen into the water. Michael figured that this had gone too far, and did something that he almost never did - he voluntarily returned her to her ball. Charlotte fell to the ground, too dazed to move and breathing rapidly. He offered her his hand, and she wearily took it, tightly wrapping her arms around him for comfort. Layla and Elise made their way to her.

"Are… you okay?" Elise asked, with her ears lowered.

"Y…y-yes" Charlotte stammered. Michael could feel her heart racing. "S-she's outta control…"

"I know, Char," Michael said. "I know." Though he wouldn't admit it, he was scared for night to come.

 **...** **..**

Veronica was completely silent throughout dinner, but her ravenous appetite was even larger than normal. Michael knew - they _all_ knew - that she was storing extra energy for her upcoming "activities" with her trainer. "Damn dude," Zeke said quietly to Michael, "I don't envy _you_ tonight." The flygon grabbed her tray, stood up, and headed back to the buffet. _Shit, this is her third trip!_ With her previous promise, her recent attitude, and the massive amount of food she was downing, it was clear to Michael that he was in for quite a night. He tried to keep his mind occupied by focusing on feeding Elise. She could've eaten her berry salad without assistance by simply eating how most wild pokémon would. Truth be told, she could eat _most_ of her dishes that way, but she always preferred to be fed by Michael. Of course, he enjoyed this - even going so far as to discover what amounts of each berry she wanted each bite.

Veronica finally returned to the table, her tray full once more. Her and Charlotte were on completely opposite sides of the table - as far away from each other as possible. The last thing Michael needed was to have to pay the hotel for cafeteria reconstruction. _Although,_ he thought, nervously eyeing Veronica, _we might have to pay them to repair the room…_ He doubted the flygon was about to take it easy on him, despite the fact that he was so new to this. Finished with her meal, Elise lay back, placing her head in Michael's lap, and looking up at him with a large grin. He rubbed her head, never able to tire of the way her smooth fur felt to his hand. She gently nosed his palm, then gave him a love bite. Laughing inwardly, and knowing that he wouldn't be making use of his left hand at the moment, he picked up his fork with his other, then began with his own meal. With the way things were looking, he'd likely need the energy that night.

 **...** **..**

As they made their way back to their rooms, Veronica impatiently led him forward. It seemed as though the time to even get there was too much of an inconvenience for her. Michael fumbled around for his card key as they approached the door. He unlocked the others' room, then his own. She all but pushed him inside once he opened it. Slamming the door behind her and locking it shut, Veronica hastily made her way over to him. Looking into her eyes, he saw that his dragon was somewhere in there, somewhere amidst a cloud of lust. "Lose the clothes," she simply said. "We're gettin' straight to it."

"Ver, at least let me shower up and everything…" The flygon looked annoyed, but let off.

"Fine. You have ten minutes. After that, I'm kicking the door down." Knowing she wasn't kidding, Michael hurriedly washed himself and brushed his teeth. "Come on!" she yelled when she decided he had kept her waiting long enough.

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He walked out to see her sprawled out over the bed, laying on her back. His eyes followed up her long, beautiful tail, up to her tight tail-hole and her waiting sex. Her lipless slit showed a slimmer of pink; her whole nether region was adopting a slight red hue, and was already wet. It seemed as though her heat was really taking a toll on her. He averted his gaze, but it wouldn't do him much good - he'd be looking at, and feeling, it soon enough anyways. "I don't know why you bothered putting those on," she said, pointing to his shorts. "Take them off." He slowly pulled his shorts down, leaving him only in his boxers. "Those too." Apparently, he took too long for her likes, as she stood up, made her way to him and slipping a claw down the side. With a quick slice, she tore his last piece of clothing off. "I'm gonna show you how a _real_ dragon mates."

"Alaina told you all?"

"It was the first thing she said to us this morning," Veronica said, repositioning herself on the bed. "We all accepted the fact that you would be bedding all of us. However, I will _not_ be outperformed by that wannabe dragon."

"Ver, please," he said, hoping she would listen, "take it easy. This is only my second time doing this." The flygon eyed his member, licking her lips.

"You don't have to worry about a thing - I'll be doing most of the work." _What's that supposed to mean?_ He slowly approached the bed, naked as the day he was born. "Come on, up here," she said expectantly. Michael climbed up on the bed, and, as to her demand, over top of her. Veronica swiftly pulled him the rest of the way forward, parting his lips forcefully. She forced her tongue into his mouth; the oral battle was finished as soon as it started. But despite her dominance, she was still sensitive, much to his appreciation. With both her tongue filling his mouth, and his shaft against her moistened slit, he hardened within the moment. "I can feel you down there," she said as they parted. He wasn't the only one - her arousal was leaking onto him, coating his manhood.

"M-me too," he grunted, grinding into her folds. Her crevice was way tighter than her size would have suggested. Maybe not as tight as Alaina's, but far from gaping.

"Go on, put it in," she said, looking at him expectantly. "I've been waiting so long for this - don't keep me waiting any more." Michael took his member in his hand, guiding it into her sex. "Ahhh, there we are," she said as he parted her folds. He grabbed her legs, spreading them further apart to grant him better access. As he pushed in, hearing her moan his name, he found her velvety walls to be warm and wet, completely coated with her arousal. _Damn,_ he thought as he reached the halfway point, _she must've really wanted this…_ Though after feeling the pleasures of sex, he could understand why.

Veronica drew him into another deep, passionate kiss, reminding him with her exploration of his mouth who was in charge of the situation. She withdrew with a gasp when he hit her virgin barrier. "Ver, do you want me to…"

"More than anything." She grabbed ahold of the sheets on each side of her to brace herself.

"I love you Ver," he said. He shoved through the fleshy wall, feeling his member hilt within her no-longer-virgin sex. She roared out in pain as their most intimate regions were fully connected. Her blood trickled down onto her thick, luscious tail, coating the underside of his member.

"That… hurt," she grunted, still trying to adjust to the pain.

"I'm sorry, Ver, I would never—."

"I know, Michael… it's just part of the first time," she said through squinted eyes. He rubbed her cheek, comforting the dragon that he had just penetrated. Her walls constricted around him, coating his manhood in her essence and warmth. Behind him, he felt her tail twitch quickly. She clamped her legs around his backside, pulling him in even more. It was then that he saw something carnal in her eye. Before he could process what happened, Veronica grabbed him and flipped over, straddling his member.

"V-ver…" The fierce yet mischievous glare in her eyes made him cower under her.

"Now that _that's_ over…" She trailed her claws up his sides, scraping lightly against his skin, and bringing them to rest on his chest. She craned her neck to lean in closely to his ear. "This is what you get for teasing me… and for putting me in the ball earlier!" _Oh… looks like she hasn't forgotten…_

Using her powerful hips, she lifted her rear off of him, to where only the tip remained inside. More of her juices trickled down his shaft, gleaming in the dim lamplight. "I told you," she said, pressing down on his chest, "told you that I was going to pin you down and have my way with you some day. Well guess what? Today's that day!" With a resounding slap, she slammed herself back down, impaling herself once more on his manhood. The impact was harsh, and he felt the blunt of her weight on him. But despite the roughness of her intimacy, the firmness of her walls far outweighed any inconvenience that the dominant flygon was giving him.

After another similar motion, she set the pace for their aggressive lovemaking. Her tail wrapped around his leg, and she slipped her arms under his side, clasping his back and lowering her face to his. "You… belong… to _me_!" she said in between downward thrusts. As she forced her tongue into his mouth, she sped up the pace, slamming down on him as fast as she could. He actually somewhat enjoyed her style, but part of him was scared of the beast that he had awoken. _What… have I done?_

The flygon lowered her chest onto him, and, hugging him tightly against her larger frame, effectively interlocked every part of their bodies. She ended their lip-lock, moving her tongue to the side; her scales glided across his skin, and her tongue danced along the surface of his cheek. With both this and the wet friction provided by her clenching pussy, he knew he was nearing his peak. "Ver," he panted, sucking in air, "I'm… about to—."

"I am too," she said. Her small scales glistened with perspiration, and her hot breath was released on his neck. She quickened her pace; her tail tightened around his leg as though it were trying to suffocate the life out of it.

Michael couldn't hold back any more. He pulled her hips down, holding them together as he released what felt like half a dozen strands of his seed inside of her large body, grunting as he achieved his orgasm. She smiled as she took it all, licking his lips as she tightened around him.

His climax must have pushed her over the edge, too. She slammed into him one final time, holding him in place as she released her juices all over his nether region, and released another pleasure-filled roar. In the midst of her climax, she did the unexpected - she bit his shoulder, clamping her teeth down hard into him. "Ver!" She seemed not to hear him; rather, she was clouded by her primitive desires as she claimed him for herself. "Ver, please - that hurts!" The flygon released her fanged hold of him, opting to smash their mouths back together.

This kiss, though, was different from the others. Rather than force her way inside in a rough, lusty manner, she gently kissed him, even letting him have some entry into her mouth. He wrapped his arms around her neck, savoring the flygon that he had come to love. As she pulled away, she lightly nipped his lips, brushing her tongue to them. Without a word, she turned on her side, puling him with her and, with her legs still around him, kept them connected. He felt her wing drape over him as she nuzzled his wounded shoulder. _Oh well… it'll be better in the morning…_

She craned her neck over his shoulder, humming softly in content. He was trapped within her loving embrace, almost completely unable to move. Not that he would have, anyways. Her crooning quieted down, being replaced by her rumbling snoring.

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\**

The next morning, he woke up wishing that he hadn't. Despite his accelerated healing, which had already taken care of his bitten shoulder, he ached all over - the result of his newly mated flygon viciously slamming all three hundred thirty pounds of her weight against him. Speaking of which…

Veronica tightened her grip on him, murmuring something in her sleep. Michael rolled his eyes - he wasn't going anywhere until she woke up as well. "Ver," he said quietly, trying to speed up the process.

"Five more minutes," she mumbled. _Ugh, fine…_ He couldn't deny, though, the fact that her large frame felt amazing pressed up against him. Looking down, he saw in the dim morning light that his flaccid member had withdrawn from her confines during their slumber. Her dried-up dragon juices still coated his thighs, a testament to her large orgasm the night before.

She uncurled her tail from around his leg and loosened her death-grip hug on him. "Good morning beautiful," he said, rubbing the back of her head.

"Morning," she replied, nudging his cheek. She placed her clawed hands on each side of his face, drawing him in for a gentle, sweet kiss. "Last night was… well beyond anything I could've imagined."

"Me too," he said honestly.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"O-of course," he said. "I mean, it was a little bit rough, but it felt great. If you don't mind me asking, though, what happened yesterday? You were definitely in rare form…"

"I'm… sorry. I kind of lost it yesterday… I let my heat get the better of me. Now I did plan to have you take me, but… not like that... My heat came around earlier than I thought. And I was so ready for us to… I just kind of lost it..." she said, looking down with shut eyes. She opened them, however, when he brought their lips back together.

"Don't worry," he said reassuringly, "I can take it."

"And I love you all the more for that." She sat up, stretching her wings out. "It's just… I let my heat cloud out my reason… I was kinda mean… I'm sorry." Michael shook his head.

"I'm not the one you should apologize to - you were fine to me." Her head fell in defeat, her wings drooping.

"You must mean…"

"You weren't exactly very nice to Charlotte yesterday…"

"…I know," she muttered. "I'll go apologize to her." She stood up, motioning for him to follow her. "But first, let's get ourselves cleaned up. I don't think people would like it if we walked outside like this."

 **..** **...**

Michael and Veronica stepped outside, first heading next door to the rest of the girls. Michael knocked, and soon, Layla opened the door. "We're almost ready to go," the lucario said.

"Alright, I'll go check and see if Zeke's almost ready." He walked over to the zoroark's room. He almost knocked, but stopped himself when he saw a folded note peaking out from under the doorway. Picking it up, he unfolded it and read the sloppy handwriting to himself.

 _Hey! Congrats on getting laid, man! By the time you read this message, I will likely be catching up on the several hours of sleep I lost last night. You have proven that these walls are not sound proof - ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU REPETITIVELY RAM YOUR DAMN BED INTO THE WALL! Yeah, the only thing that separates your bed from my bed is five inches of sheetrock. With how loud the two of you were, I can easily say that I heard a good 70% of what went on in there._

 _So please, try and practice your sex just a little bit quieter. And for the love of Arceus, MOVE YOUR BED AWAY FROM THE WALL! You have no idea how terrifying of an experience that was - I buried my head under the pillow, trying to ignore the noises, when suddenly, my bed started SHAKING LIKE A FUCKING EARTHQUAKE! I moved to the other, but the sound was still loud as hell. Anyways, that's why I'm sleeping now…_

 _P.S. When I get up - probably around noon - I'll meet you for lunch. Liking the looks of that cafe across the street. You know, the one with the purple umbrellas up front? Oh, and you're buying - you owe me after the mental pain you put me through last night._

 _P.P.S. My favorite part was the long, drawn-out roar right at the end ;)_

Michael folded the note up and slid it under his door. Hopefully, nobody would see it. It seemed as though he had not thought everything through last night. But then again, how could he have with Veronica being in such a mood? He only wondered how many other people heard their rough lovemaking. Surely the room below his must have.

As he walked back into the girls' room, he couldn't help but smile at the sight before him. Veronica was hugging Charlotte's smaller frame against her own, her head on top of the fox's, between her ears. Charlotte rolled her eyes, and returned the hug.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **If you enjoyed reading, please consider leaving a review. It's always great to hear your thoughts about the story, especially since there's a lot of areas that I need to improve on.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:**

 **Another chapter finally done. This time, we've got a lot of plot-building details, so keep an eye out.**

 **Thanks to Archangel2462 for beta-ing this story, and pointing out the dozens of errors.**

 **Also, shoutout to Umari Moon for peer reviewing the lemon scene, and for giving me feedback on it.**

 **If you enjoy reading this story, please consider leaving a review.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"Love is friendship that has caught fire."**

 **-Ann Landers**

* * *

 **Ch. 12 - Fire Foxes**

Michael turned in to his room for the night. Lunch had not been awkward like he had thought it would, aside from an occasional joke from Zeke about the night before.

Elise's wagging tail rubbed against his forearm, making him smile from her anticipation. He had carried her, as per her request, back to the room, despite her size. Walking inside, he gently set her on the bed. "Thank you," she said. She pawed at his shirt, silently asking him to take it off. He unbuttoned his shirt, throwing it aside and hugging his bare chest to her underside. Their noses touched; her bashful smile enticed him in, and he brought their lips together. Elise squealed in surprise, but adapted almost immediately, melting into the kiss.

Just like they had nights before, the two of them stayed connected at the mouth for as long as they possibly could. By the time they separated, a thin string of saliva dangled between their mouths. "C-could we… get under the covers and…"

"Of course we can," Michael replied, kissing her nose. "But first, I've got to do something." He mentally rehearsed the story. He was a private first-class, and he had been stationed along the east coast of Kanto, mostly keeping guard over Johto's embassy along route 12. _Mostly guard duty - nothing too dangerous_. He certainly hadn't been involved in any firefights.

Michael pulled out his laptop, slowly opening the webcam feature. _It's been months… I shouldn't have waited this long…_ Looking at the time, he clicked on the contact. He tilted the screen, making sure that the camera had a good angle. _Shit… I should put the shirt back on…_ Before he could get up to do so, the call connected, and he froze.

An office occupied the screen; books on financing, geography, and local wildlife filled the bookcase behind the middle-aged figure. For a moment, neither of them said a word. But when conversation did begin, Michael wasn't the first to speak.

"Damn… is that you son?" Perhaps it was Michael's more defined muscles that threw his father off.

"Yeah dad… it's me…" On the contrary, his father looked the same as he had remembered from the years before. Maybe a touch more gray in his hair, but nothing too different. His brown goatee and cowboy hat looked the same as he'd always remembered them.

"You've changed…" he trailed off. "But then again, I guess that could be expected, being that you haven't visited in _two_ years." _That's… true._ But with how busy he had been with the Reapers, he had neither the time nor the authority to go anywhere aside from his missions.

"I'm sorry dad," Michael said. "This is the first real time off I've had ever since joining the army."

"Really? The army usually doesn't keep you for that long…" _Dammit…_ His father was always the clever type.

"I know, usually isn't the case," Michael said, trying his best to roll with it. "It's just with all that's been going on in Kanto as of recently, ya know?"

"Yeah," his father said, "that's some crazy shit going on over there, isn't it?"

"Got that right," Michael said.

"Have you seen any combat?"

"Hmm? Oh, no. Or at least, not yet. I've mainly helped guard the embassy. Of course, the terrorists wouldn't dare attack. Going loud and public isn't exactly their style."

"Don't know that's a good thing or a bad thing," his dad said. "You can never tell with those thugs."

"No… no you can't."

"Mind if I ask you something?"

"Go right ahead." His father leaned forward, closer to the screen.

"You joined to fight, but it seems like you haven't been doing any of that. So why don't you find a job more befitting of your intelligence? You could be knocking down a quarter of a million a year easily with your qualifications…" _Hah, the girls and I could make that from just battling…_

"We've enjoyed being able to stay in one place for awhile, and the military treats you well."

"What do you mean 'we?'" his father asked, before coming to the realization. "Oh, you must mean…"

"The girls and I."

"Oh…" His father seemed slightly perturbed by Michael's response. "Listen, son, you don't need to base your future off of what a couple of pokémon want…" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elise lower her head.

"They aren't just a couple of pokémon - they're some of the greatest people in the world. And besides, it's what we _all_ want."

"Well that's your decision," he stated, "and only you can make it." They both fell silent due to the awkwardness of the situation. Deciding to change the subject, Michael spoke up.

"Sooo… how's business been?"

"Can't complain. Stocks have dropped huge, but there's been some high paying customers. I've seen better years, that's for sure, but still making in the seven digits." _What the hell does he mean 'can't complain?' Seven digits? Seems pretty fucking good to me…_

"That's good to hear." Truth be told, he didn't know of any set position that his father held. He knew that he was in business for himself, and was involved in both investments and the stock market. And he was _very_ successful at it, too. Michael had received all of his knowledge about investing from his father, and he sure as hell was financially comfortable.

"So what are you up to now?" he asked. "Looks like you're in a hotel."

"We are. The girls and I are taking it easy for a few months down here in Cianwood. Battling a little bit, too - just like our campaign days."

"Sounds fun. You've got a pretty strong team, I remember - not many trainers have a flygon with them." _And even fewer have a latias…_ "Speaking of which, where are they? I'd expect it to be a lot louder if they were around."

"Well, we had to rent two rooms for everyone. Most of the girls are next door. But Elise is right here."

"Elise," his father repeated. "Let's see… that's the eevee, right?" Michael motioned for her to join him in front of the camera.

"Not anymore - she's a glaceon now. Don't you remember? I told you awhile back…"

"Must've slipped my mind." Elise lay across his lap, but made no intimate gestures towards him. Michael's father didn't know, and it was probably best that he didn't. Or at least, not for some time. "Hey there," he said, nodding at the glaceon.

"Hello…" Michael's father perked up in response to her speech.

"Did that thing just…"

"Yes, _she_ did," Michael said in an irritated tone. _How dare he refer to her as 'that thing?'_ "It's a translator. The army's using a ton of them now."

"I'd heard that they were throwing the idea around, but actually using them? Gotta say, I'm impressed."

"I was, too. Man, when the girls put these things on, we talked for hours. All that time… we couldn't communicate apart from gestures. But these bridge the language barrier." He ran his hand along her back, making her smile and lay her head in between her forepaws. "I'd love to see these things flock the market. It'd be great to see trainers be able to get to know their pokémon like I know mine." He looked down at her sprawled-out frame. "Isn't that right, Elise?"

"Mhm."

Michael and his father talked for awhile about various subjects, and Elise even chatted a little with him. Everything was going well until his father brought one certain political issue up.

"Say, since you've been over in Kanto, I'm guessing you haven't heard of the Assembly, now have you?"

"Oh trust me," Michael said, "I've heard of them. Kinda hard to avoid publicity when you start killing people…"

"Ah, the results of a few skirmishes with some protestors."

"Fatal skirmishes."

"Maybe, but some of those assholes had it coming to them anyways. I mean, they are vehemently attacking the average person's ideals for not accepting their views. Of course _someone's_ going to get pissed."

"I know the people protesting for human-pokémon marriage haven't been very tolerant lately," Michael admitted. "They've vandalized public property, interrupted several events, and stormed the Capitol several times… But they should be jailed if they do those things, not killed right on the spot. And the Assembly hasn't been simply attacking protestors - they've hunted down mixed couples on several instances. People that have had nothing to do with the protests, people that have been minding their own business. I think it's been seven or eight couples like that, now, that they've murdered. There's nothing respectable about a group like that - nothing but a bunch of domestic terrorists, if you ask me."

"But there's more to it than that. The Assembly has also gotten the average person more involved in politics - more involved in fighting off the liberalism that tries to creep into our society."

"Liberalism?"

"Human-pokémon relationships are imminently liberal in nature. Think about it - all of the politicians that are pushing for the issue are lefties. Well, and a few pseudo-conservatives. All under the label of 'social freedom,' but they'd rather force the issue by changing the law - _against_ the will of the common people."

"But that's the politicians supporting the issue," Michael countered. "That doesn't necessarily mean that human-pokémon relationships are liberal in nature…" If anyone was living proof of that, Michael was.

"Shit, son," his father said. "It almost sounds like you support the relationships…" Michael fell silent, trying to think of a way out of the situation.

"My point is just that nobody should be hunted down and murdered for their lifestyle - regardless of if some people agree with it or not. I don't think a group that does that kind of stuff is justifiable, even if they have other good attributes." His father nodded, knowing that he didn't have any point to counter him with.

"Fair enough point. Listen, I'ma need to go for the night - got an estimate I need to make for a client."

"Alright," Michael said, somewhat relieved that the conversation was coming to a close. Love his dad as he might, but his views towards pokémon-related matters in general got under his skin. "Tell mom I said hi."

"Will do," his father said, nodding. "'Night."

"Goodnight." The image froze, then went blank. Michael shut his laptop and sighed. "Well, that was stressful."

"He… wouldn't support us," Elise sniffed, "would he?" Michael hugged her tightly, not wanting to lie to the glaceon that he loved.

"No… I don't think he would." He lifted her chin to make her look at him. "But you know what? Who gives a damn?" She smiled, then pressed their noses together, as per their common gesture. Michael wasted no time in pecking her on the lips.

"I-I love you," she said, nuzzling him.

"And I love you, sweet girl - and no one's gonna get in the way of that, family or not." He tossed the covers back, picking her up and setting her on the sheets. "Now if I recall correctly, we had something to do…" She eagerly nodded. He moved his laptop to the nightstand, switching the lamp off.

"Y-you don't have to…" Elise paused in the middle of her sentence.

"I don't have to what?" Her cheeks became rosy, and she hid under the covers in bashfulness. She said something, though he couldn't hear what it was. "Elise… What do I not have to do?"

"W-wear th-those," she said quietly. He was surprised to hear her say something like that, being that she was incredibly shy, but slipped down his pants anyways. He raised the covers, exposing her hidden form.

"Come on, pretty girl - you don't ever need to hide from me." Slowly, she crawled out, steadily averting her gaze. "Is this what you want?"

"Y-yes…" He scooped her up, and pressed their lips together.

"Elise, you can always be straightforward with me. You know that, right?"

"Yes…" He gently lowered the glaceon, laying beside her and firmly pressing their chests together.

"Good." He cupped her cheek, staring into her deep, blue eyes. "You know, I could look into your eyes forever." She blushed at his remark, but a cute, tiny smile made itself apparent. She leaned to give him a quick peck, but the kiss ended up lasting far longer. As they tightly embraced each other, Michael again felt the sensation of wanting to go further. _But… she might not be ready to do that yet. She hasn't said a word about wanting to go further…_ So, Michael once more explored every aspect of her body except for her lower region, clasping the glaceon against him as their tongues danced together.

 **…..**

The whimsicott fell to the ground, its skin singed and its cotton-like material blackened. Charlotte grinned, turning to Michael and giving him a cute wink. The battle had been quick, similarly to their last one, but more difficult. She had the type advantage, but that was negligible if she couldn't hit her foe, who was clearly faster than her. Knowing this, Michael instructed her to use shock wave, despite its ineffectiveness. They had achieved the result he wanted - the whimsicott froze in her tracks, allowing Charlotte to hit her with a powerful flamethrower.

The judges talked over the results while Charlotte walked back to Michael. "She didn't see that coming, did she?" The braixen's voice was slightly smug, but more so excited.

"No, Char, I don't think she did." Their opponent walked over to her downed pokémon, kneeling beside the whimsicott and placing her hand on its chest.

"You did great out there," she said. The whimsicott just barely nodded, unable to get to her feet.

The scores had been decided. For her trickery and maneuverability, the whimsicott was awarded with a 5, a 7.8, and a 5.9. But for winning the battle with only two moves, Charlotte was given a perfect score. "There we go!" she shouted. "Michael, look!"

"Well would ya look at that," he laughed. "The judges clearly saw how skilled you are." Her smile widened as she leaned against his leg, looking up.

"So…" she said quietly, "I get my reward tonight, right?" Zeke growled lightly, glaring at the fire fox.

"Chill…"

"Oh hush," she snapped, before returning her focus to Michael. "Anyways. you didn't answer me…" Michael tried to avoid the zoroark's gaze.

"Yes, Charlotte…"

 **…..**

As Michael drifted in the deeper end with Veronica, he heard someone calling his name. "Hey! Michael!" He looked around, scanning for the source of the voice. A familiar looking woman walked briskly towards them. "I watched your fight earlier. You're quite the battler."

"Oh, hey Cory," the girls payed close attention to the conversation upon hearing his response. "And I'd say the real battlers are the girls here - they do all the work."

"Oh, hush, they'd probably be lost without you." Michael wasn't the only one annoyed by her assumption, as evident by Ver's lowly growl.

"More like I'd be lost without them. They're everything to me." Elise nudged his hand, giving him a large, appreciative grin.

"Aww, that's so cute," Cory said, watching the glaceon doggy-paddle in place, lovingly nuzzling her trainer. She looked back at him, continuing. "I was just wondering if I could join you."

"What?"

"You know, in the pool."

"It's a resort pool - I'm pretty sure anyone's allowed to swim in it…"

"Good point." She removed her t-shirt, revealing her too-tight swim top. _Oh, that's just great…_ And her bottom piece wasn't any better. After stepping out of her shorts, she ran and jumped into the pool.

"Girls, please don't kill her," he quickly said while she was underwater.

"Then do something!" they all said, except for Elise.

"It's not like I can just tell her to fu—." Before he could finish, Cory sprung up beside him, startling Elise and even making him jump back a little bit. _I seriously better do something about this before Ver claws her throat out…_ He rubbed the glaceon's wet back comfortingly.

"I'm sorry," she said in a somewhat belittling voice, "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's… okay," she stammered.

"Oh, so you have one of those translators too?"

"Yeah - all of my pokémon do," Michael said.

"You'd best remember that," Veronica growled.

"What? Did you say something?" she asked confusedly.

"Nope."

Despite Cory's entry, Michael did not change his previous activity. He still swam about with the girls, focusing his attention on them, much to Cory's growing annoyance. "Come on," she said, "have a little fun."

"I am having fun," he replied.

"Oh please, you've been drifting around for the last hour. Hell, you seem to be that flygon's prisoner - she hasn't let up this whole time…"

"I'm sorry," she hissed, "I just prefer to protect my trainer from danger."

"She's fine," Michael said, backing Veronica up.

"Seems like you've been around their kind too much," Cory said. "Why don't you spend some time with your own species?"

"I do… I just—."

"Come on - why don't you and I head on over to—."

"Sorry," he said, cutting her off. He knew where she was going, and he would have no part in that for a multitude of reasons. "I'm already seeing someone." She seemed to be somewhat taken back upon hearing this, but persisted on.

"Nobody has to know," she said, smiling. "Not like I'm gonna tell anyone."

"All the same. I'm not going anywhere with you." She huffed, then began swimming away. As she stepped out of the pool, Cory continued, albeit in a bitter tone.

"Maybe one day you'll associate with your kind for a change…" Michael had enough, and finally dropped the filter.

"And maybe one day you won't act like a scheming slut." Her eye went wide in shock, her lips quivering at his remark.

"You… up yours! Find someone else who's willing to serve your underage ass!" Cory stormed off, forgetting her previously discarded clothes in the process. Several people were looking at him, dumbfounded by what they had just witnessed.

"Thank you," he heard Alaina say from over his shoulder.

"Don't mention it."

 **…..**

After returning from their awkward swimming experience, Michael decided to look into the tournament a little more. With two battles down, both with perfect scores, Michael and the girls knew that they were likely secure. He had observed the statistics for the previous year's tournament, noticing that the lowest of the scores for those that progressed was around 70-72, with the mean being 79. _Yeah, unless we screw up really bad, there's no way we won't go on._ And with how strong the girls were, he wouldn't be surprised to see a third perfect score.

But, continuing to look at last year's data, he saw that he wouldn't be the only trainer to accomplish such a feat. _Let's see… Leo Browning…_ Upon clicking on the name, he realized who he was dealing with. _Shit! He's won the last four tournaments!_ The young adult trainer had a team of six - a team that nobody had managed to get halfway through. _Looks like we've got ourselves some true competition,_ he thought. He shuffled through picture after picture of his battles, only managing to see four of his pokémon. _A blaziken, a tyranitar, skarmory, and a garchomp… shit… this guy's pretty stacked…_

As he contemplated a possible plan, given that they were matched up with him, his phone vibrated. Charlotte diverted her attention away from the television, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. "Catch!" she said, tossing it to him. He snagged it, looking at the screen and seeing a text from Samuel.

 _Hey, Nicole and I would like to chat. Is now a good time?_

He responded that it was, and prepared the webcam in order to converse with him. "Char, Samuel and Nicole are getting ready to come on."

"Ooh," she said. hopping up beside him. "I wanna see how Nicole's doing." A moment later, Samuel appeared on screen, sitting on a smooth, black leather couch.

"Hey man," Michael said, smiling at his raven-haired friend, "how've you been enjoying your time off?"

"It's been great," Samuel replied. "Glad that we can finally sleep in now." _Huh, lucky._ Due to the larger size of his team, Michael was still somewhat set into a schedule of sorts. After all, everyone needed to eat.

"I'm sure," he laughed. Charlotte shot Samuel a questioning look.

"Hey, where's Nicole?" she asked, audibly disappointed at her friend's absence. "I thought you said she was there." Samuel grinned, looking over to the side.

"She is. Are you ready to see her?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" Charlotte asked.

"Alright then. Nicole, hop on up here." He adjusted the laptop slightly, allowing his camera to cover the golden blur that leapt beside him.

"No way!" Charlotte shrieked. Samuel put his arm around the newly evolved ninetales, who nuzzled his neck.

"Mhm." Nicole's voice was much more mature than its previously higher-pitched form.

"Congratulations," Michael said.

"Thank you," Nicole said. "It was so instant - the moment I touched the stone, even." She swayed her luxurious tails over her back, waving them experimentally. "It's gonna take some getting used to, this new form. But I absolutely love it!"

"Me too," Samuel said.

Their discussion closed due to a look at the clock. They caught up for what seemed like hours, and lost all track of time. Nicole and Charlotte had also requested some "girl time," taking the opportunity to chat while their trainers were up and doing other things. Michael used that time to shower up, wrapping a towel around his waist as he finished.

"You done yet?" Charlotte asked from outside the door.

"Yeah, just about. You and Nicole finished talking?"

"Mhm. They've turned in for the night." He opened the door, allowing for her to come to his side while he brushed his teeth. He picked her up, setting her on the counter so she could do the same, noticing that she didn't have her stick with her at the moment. "I think we both know what they're up to right about now," she said through the foam in her mouth. _I can imagine…_ "Are you ready?" she asked, hopping off and standing in the doorway.

"Yeah…" She waited for him to finish, then placed her hand lightly on his towel-covered side. She looked up at him, wordlessly asking for permission. Once he nodded, she smiled, and, gripping the fabric, pulled the towel down.

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\**

"Ohh," she crooned, taking in the sight. Her tail twitched, and she raised her arms. Michael picked her up, pulling their bare bodies to each other. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and let her tail hang to brush over his member. "You remember our little goal, right?" As if she needed to remind him.

"You want an hour…"

"That's right. You up for it?"

"I don't know, Char," he admitted. "I haven't lasted that long yet. Not even close."

"Well, you also went straight into the main event, didn't you?" She was right - with both Alaina and Veronica, there was no foreplay.

"Yeah… we did…"

"So," she whispered, nipping at the crook of his neck, "all you gotta do is try a few new things." He switched the light off, carrying her over to the bed. She stood up, level with him and cupping his cheeks, and swiftly mashed their lips together. He gripped her tightly, savoring the feeling of her fur between his fingers. His hand lowered to her bushy tail, kneading the dense tufts of fur. "Go on," she said, coaxing him forth after receding from their kiss, "go a bit lower." As he trailed down to the base of her tail, Charlotte gently rubbed along his shaft. Her soft paws made him harden within the moment as he grasped her small, tight rear. She bent over, raising her tail, and licked from the base to the tip, taking the head into her mouth briefly.

"Arceus, that felt amazing, Char." She giggled in response.

"I'm glad you think so." She spread her legs, taking his hand. "Michael, I want you to touch me," she said sultrily. Allowing her to guide his hand, he soon felt the warmth of her small, tight snatch, causing her to moan. _Damn… she's so hot down there…_

"You like that, don't you?" he asked. She rapidly nodded, panting as he gripped her soaked sex through her fur. "You're so wet - you've been wanting this for awhile, haven't you?"

"Hah, only for over two years…" As they rubbed each other, his fingers became drenched from her fluids, which now soaked her small vulva. He trailed his fingers up her two lips, ending with a small pinch to her clit. "Ohhh," she moaned. "Th-that's it. I want you to—." He didn't let her finish, as he claimed her mouth. She melted into the kiss, though, brushing up against his tongue and gently biting his lower lip. After retreating, she leaned in towards his ear. "You interrupted me," she playfully chastised.

"I'm sorry," he said, grinning.

"No you aren't."

"Oh? How are you so sure?"

"I don't know, maybe that goofy grin on your face gives it away," she said. "So, as I was saying before…"

"Please continue."

"…I want you to use your mouth." He was somewhat surprised to hear this, but then again, she did say that they would be trying out new things.

"You want to try oral?"

"Yes." She released her hold on his member, laying down with her legs still spread, giving him the perfect view of her tight pussy. "Like what you see?" Using her paws, she spread her small sex, revealing her inner walls.

"I think you know the answer to that." He kneeled down, becoming level with the braixen's nether region.

"Well don't keep me waiting." He responded by lowering his mouth to her lips, hovering a mere inch above. Putting any doubts behind him, he gave her slit a long, deep lick. "Oh Arceus," she moaned. _Woah, she really is warm down here…_ Michael grabbed her hands, holding them tightly while he licked her folds once more. "Don't… stop…"

"Oh trust me," he said, quickly looking up, "I don't plan on it." He kissed her lower lips, inserting his tongue into her cavern and tasting her depths. _Yeah… definitely hot… "_ Ahh!" He felt her paws grip the back of his head, pulling him into her more. He was determined to pleasure her for as long as he could. He might not hit the one hour mark, but damn if he wouldn't try.

Her breath became wild and frantic as he continued eating her out. His usually composed braixen was now moaning his name over and over, gasping at the sensation of having such intimate contact with her trainer. Despite being a fire type, she shivered from the pleasure, clasping his head as he tasted the indescribable flavor of her walls. "Michael… I'm n-not going to… last long."

He held her rear in his hands, cupping her ass as he delved into her folds, completely hard throughout the process. The heat was overwhelming, leaving him wanting to sit there and continue all day. But they both knew that she was drawing near, her breath coming out in long, drawn-out gasps. He brought his fingers to her womanhood, spreading her black, smooth lips for better access. In a heat-of-the-moment decision, he licked up to her tiny clit, taking it into his mouth and sucking on it.

"Michael!" she yelled. Her fluids gushed out of her small opening, coating his chin as he continued sucking. The braixen's mouth was agape, her eyes watering from pleasure. "Ahh… Oh, that… that was amazing!"

"I'm glad you think so," he said, wiping her juices off his chin. He checked the clock - ten minutes had passed. _Damn, this is gonna be harder than I thought._ Although, he wasn't complaining - they were both really enjoying this. "You're a sexy little fire fox, you know that?"

"Mmm, I like hearing you talk like that," she said, finally able to form coherent sentences. "I'm gonna need a minute, okay?"

"Sure thing." He lay beside her, stroking her golden, furry side. "You're really hot inside."

"Well duh - I'm a fire type," she said with a wide smile.

"Oh? Striking a bit of a tone with me, are you?" he joked. "Well, I know how to fix that." Placing his hand behind her head, he pulled her to him, claiming her mouth with in swift motion. Despite her size, she hopped on top of him, straddling his mid-section, and tightly hugged him, forcing their kiss even more intensely. Michael's hand lowered to her rear once more, where he kneaded her ass, causing her to moan into his mouth as their tongues wrested.

"I think you're enjoying me, aren't you?" she asked, her lips brushing against his.

"Very much." She lowered her paw to her snatch, rubbing it.

"You've got me all wet again," she said. "I think I'm ready for round two now."

"Alright." She sped up her efforts, but he grabbed her forearm. "Allow me."

"Such a gentleman," she giggled, moving her paw and granting him passage. "M'kay, I'll let you have at it." He traced her folds, rubbing them in small, circular motions. With her current position, though, it was kind of difficult.

"Here," he said, turning her over so that her back was on his chest, "this will make it much easier." He caressed her softly, but his fingers trailed deeply between her lips. He simply couldn't get enough of the warmth between, and admittedly, couldn't wait to feel the sensation on his own member. But for now, he would continue to pleasure her with his hand.

"You're… too good at that," she said, looking up at him. Michael cupped the left side of her face with his inactive hand, kissing her opposite cheek deeply. He trailed short, quick kisses down the side of her face, ending up on her neck, which he bit lightly. As his fingers became covered with her essence, she slightly humped back against him; he could see that she wanted more.

As he trailed over her opening, he stopped, gently inserting a single finger. "Ooohh," she groaned, going still from the intrusion. He didn't want to break her hymen - not his way, at least - so he only inserted it halfway, rubbing her clit with his thumb.

"Does that feel good, love?"

"I… ahh…" She lost her speech once more, her mouth open from her rapid gasps. Seeing the opportunity, he gave her deep, passionate kiss, letting her rest her tongue in his mouth. At the rate she was clenching around his finger, it was clear that she was close again. As he explored her mouth, brushing over her sharp teeth, he decided to add another finger, stetting her entrance slightly. "Mmm!" she moaned, her eyes going wide.

He picked up the pace, pumping his fingers in and out while furiously rubbing her clit. He protruded deeper, and her pussy clenched around his digits. She sighed into his mouth, reaching her second release, and loosening her vaginal vice-grip on his fingers.

"Did I—"

"Michael,'" she panted, "you were… great…" He raised his fingers to his lips, deciding to taste her juices, finding them to be sweet.

"And _you_ , my little fire fox, taste great." By this point, her whole crotch was soaked, as he discovered upon resting his whole hand there. _Let's see… over halfway there now._

"I want you inside me - now." The vixen hopped off, going to the edge of the bed. He followed suit, standing before her and rubbing her head.

"How do you wanna do this?" he asked. She spread her legs as widely as possible, exposing her small vulva and even smaller back entrance. Charlotte looked at him endearingly, ready to take the final step. "Okay…" He took his member into his hand, setting it atop her entrance, and feeling the heat permeate from her depths.

"Go o-on," she said. "Just please, be gentle…"

"Don't worry," he said, "I will." Receiving her nod of confirmation, he pressed forward. Due to the excess of juices from beforehand, he was able to slip into her small cavern much easier. But still, her size made it a tight fit; her opening was stretched to the very limit as he managed to shove the head inside.

"M-Michael," she stammered, "y-you're so b-big." He felt her tight, warm walls squeezing against him. Slipping his hands under her back, he pressed his lips against hers, pushing further into her warm, waiting pussy. A third of the way in, and he contacted her virgin barrier.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked.

"Y-yeah," she gulped, "just make it quick, okay?"

"I will." He pulled her into another kiss to take her mind off of the upcoming pain. Pulling back slightly, he quickly shoved through, breaking the fleshy wall and hilting into her womb. She shrieked, tears forming in her eyes from the pain of the penetration.

"It… hurts…" He hugged her tightly, rubbing her back soothingly to try to alleviate the hurt.

"I'm sorry," he said, kissing her pointed noise.

"It's okay," she sniffed. "It was worth it." He waited a few minutes for her to adjust, his member embedded inside her smaller frame. Charlotte's breathing normalized, and she gave him a nod. "I'm ready now."

"Alright." He began to withdraw his member, which now had blood amongst the other fluids covering it. The temperature change was instant, and he wanted nothing more than to feel her heat again. So, with a quick thrust, he hilted inside of her once more, taking the braixen's breath away. Taking it slowly, he pumped in and out of her sex, and he could see that her expressions of pain turned into those of pleasure. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him in closer.

"Michael!" she cried out. She looked into his eyes, her mouth open and tongue lolling out. "It feels… so good…" She mashed their lips together, nipping his tongue as it darted inside. He lowered his hands to her sides, gripping them tightly. As he pulled out, he quickly slammed her down on his member. "K-keep doing th-that!" _Oh… trust me, I will…_

Picking up the pace, he decided to shake things up a little. He stood up, and, without disconnecting, brought her with him. "What a-are you doing?"

"Trying a new position." Grasping her tightly and holding her in place, he thrust up inside of her. Her large, bushy tail began to wag, signifying her satisfaction with their lovemaking. He slammed into her, transitioning into much harder, quicker thrusts. As he claimed her neck, his hands gripped her rump, squeezing her ass as he rammed into her sex.

He stared into her crimson eyes, and the two grew more passionate in their carnal dance - tasting her breath, giving love bites on her neck, and running his fingers through her fur through their tight embrace. "Char… I'm getting r-really close…"

"Me too," she panted. "I w-want us to do it t-together." Since this would be his first orgasm of the night, he was expecting to release before long. But he needed to hold back - just a little while longer - to release when she did.

He sped up his thrusts, slamming into her as fast as he could, completely hilting inside of her each time. Michael felt the tightening in his loins - only a few seconds. Her already-tight walls clamped down on him like a war vice grip, and she began shaking.

"Michael! Ahhh!" Her shaking orgasm sent her liquids spraying down into him. With a final slamming hilt, gasping in pleasure as he shot his seed into her, coating her walls and filling her womb, joining her in the brink of orgasm.

"Char… I love you," he said through heavy breaths. She pulled him down, lustily claiming his mouth for herself.

"My Michael… Oh, how long I've wanted to do this." She cuddled up to him, becoming trapped within his embrace. "You were… so deep inside of me… It was better than how I always dreamed it would feel."

"So you were satisfied?" he asked her.

"More than satisfied." After a minute of their affectionate inactivity, Michael withdrew his flaccid member from her confines. The braixen looked down to see her black fur was a complete mess. "Look what we did to my fur…" His thick seed leaked out of her soaked sex, all over her black, wet fur.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—."

"Hush," she said, placing a paw over his mouth. "I love this - I want it every time we make love, okay?" He nodded, pulling her paw down and kissing the back of it.

"Alright then, I'm sure I can manage."

Once he regained his energy, he picked her up, taking the drowsy fox into the bathroom. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up." Using a warm, wet washcloth, he scrubbed their combined essences from her fur - a difficult endeavor, as the juices preferred to clump her short, black hairs together. She gave in to her exhaustion - three orgasms for the first time surely must have tired her out. He carried her back to the bed, heading to the opposite side from their lovemaking in order to avoid laying down in their mess of sexual fluids. Caressing her back, he pulled the covers up to their heads; placing a final kiss on her lips, he fell, too, fell asleep.

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 **A/N:**

 **And there we are. Hope my lemon-writing skills have improved a little bit. Of course, feedback is always appreciated, so if you have any thoughts, please consider leaving a review and tell me how I did. Until next time!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:**

 **Hey guys, sorry that I haven't been active as of recently. Hope that everyone had a great Christmas and New Year!**

 **Again, we've got some more crucial plot details in this chapter. Just like last chapter, keep your eyes peeled for certain aspects of the chapter. Now, knowing and being a part of the community here, I know a particular part of this chapter will be a bit more difficult to read. I can't say anything without spoiling it, but you'll definitely know the scene when you see it.**

 **Special thanks to** **Archangel2462 for being a great beta, and to Umi x3 for advice on the chapter. And on another note, thanks to all of you as well! Before 2016 ended, you all helped this story receive 10,000 views. Thanks a ton, guys!**

 **Anyways, onto the story. Hope you all enjoy!**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"No one has the power to shatter your dreams unless you give it to them."**

 **-Maeve Greyson**

* * *

 **Ch. 13 - Discouragement**

Michael gently stroked her cheek, waiting for the braixen to waken. She had slept like a rock, not even moving from her position the night before. But then again, she probably _was_ exhausted after their extensive romp the night before. Her nose twitched, and her eyes lazily opened. "Mmm," she groaned, "good morning."

"Morning," he said, pecking her cheek. "You look like you had a good night's rest."

"I did," she said, before stretching out and yawning. "Arceus, I had such a great time last night."

"Me too. I wasn't expecting it to be so… intense…" She placed her arms on his shoulders.

"Oh, the others will be so jealous - I got to go a whole three rounds with you."

"Now Char, I don't think we need to flaunt anything…"

"Relax," she said, "I was only kidding." She nuzzled his cheek, softly pressing her lips against it. He ran his hands over her back, down to her tail. "Careful now," she teased, "don't start something you aren't gonna finish."

"Oh, err… sorry…"

"Nothing to be sorry about," she replied, leaning in closely to his ear. "I mean, I wouldn't mind going for another round." Michael couldn't help but blush from her forwardness, unable to say anything. "Again, dear - I was kidding. After all, I'd want you to have at least saved up _some_ energy for Layla."

"Layla? She's—."

"Going tonight, yes. Honestly, do you think she's gonna pass up this chance to get in your pants? She's lusted after you for so long, and now that you're finally following through with all this… well, I don't think she's gonna let you off tonight…"

"You're… probably right…"

"I know I am," she stated matter-of-factly. "Now, let's get ready and go get some breakfast. After last night, I'm starving!" After giving her fur a desperately-needed brushing, the two set out to join the others.

 **…..**

As they ate, Michael frequently checked his phone. He had felt that it would be courteous to check up on his comrade and find out how he had been coping with his dilemma. But unfortunately, he had not received any word back from Thomas.

Clearing his thoughts of concern, he focused on the task at hand - feeding the adorable glaceon beside him. She pawed at her cup, wordlessly asking for Michael to help her drink from it. Michael carefully grabbed the mug, gently tilting it to her mouth. Despite her ice typing, Elise had opted to try hot cocoa, and the last thing he wanted to do was accidentally burn her. She took a small sip of the brown liquid, and her eyes went wide.

"This stuff… is amazing!" she squealed. "Why haven't you told me about this drink sooner?"

"I don't know," Michael shrugged, "I guess I wouldn't have expected an ice type to really care for it…" He tilted the mug once more to allow her to take a much longer sip, unable to understand her newfound love for the drink. As he set the cup down, he couldn't help but laugh at her current predicament. The glaceon tilted her head in confusion.

"What's so funny?" she asked. Apparently, the others had also noticed, and were similarly humored. Michael pulled out his phone and snapped a quick picture, showing it to her. Aside from her baffled expression, her fur was browned around her lips. "Pl-please delete that," she said with a blush, pawing at his phone.

"Not a chance," he laughed. As they finished off their meals, Michael noticed that Layla rarely removed her gaze from him. Upon seeing him looking back, she gave him a not-so-subtle grin. The look in her eyes alone made her intentions apparent.

After breakfast, they all agreed to head out to the city to find something to do. Since the arena was now occupied throughout the day, battling was off the table. Zeke headed off in a cab, while Michael simply decided to ride Veronica there, much to her delight. Since their method of getting to the meeting point was much speedier and more maneuverable, Veronica decided to take a slight detour over the ocean. "Look," she said, apparently focused on something below her. Michael carefully peeked down, catching sight of what had enthralled her.

"Wow…" Dozens of mantines swam near the surface, swiftly leaping out of the sea and catching slight air, before gliding back down into the crystalline water. _That's right,_ he thought, _they're pretty active on nice days like this._ The two of them were so focused on the majestic display beneath them that they almost didn't see the boat that they were drawing closer to. "Look out Ver!"

She pulled up with a sharp motion, almost scraping against the rails as they flew over the heads of those on the deck, making several shriek in horror as the green flash zipped directly over them. Michael's heart felt raced, like he had run a marathon.

"I… think I'm gonna focus on flying," she said embarrassedly.

"That might be a good idea…"

 **…..**

Once they had landed, Michael released the rest of his team, patting Ver on the back for not slamming them both into the side of a boat. "Sorry that I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings," she murmured.

"It's okay. I gotta say, Ver, I'm impressed with how well you maneuvered back there. The second you saw that boat, you reacted. I can see that you've been paying very great attention in those classes." The flygon hugged her trainer, leaning in closer to his face.

"Always going and making me feel better, aren't you?"

"I try."

Before long, Zeke's cab pulled up. The zoroark paid, then steeped out to join them. "How was your driver this time?" Michael asked.

"Well if it's any indicator, I didn't feel sick after stepping out of the car…"

The seven of them took in the scenery of the surrounding city. The streets were swarming with activity; cars zipped along on the bustling roads, while countless people lined the sidewalks. Behind them were the mountains, and thus, the resort, while the open markets were before them, near the coast. That's all they needed to see in order to make the decision of where they were to spend the day.

Michael and Zeke, both wearing their aviators, followed the girls to the various open stands and tables. The afternoon was spent in a flash as Michael tried his best to keep up with the girls, but ultimately failed to do so, as they spread out. _Oh well,_ he thought, _they're having a great time, and that's all that matters._

A great time, that is, until they saw people hurriedly leaving the beach. They walked over to see what the commotion was about, and found a sizable crowd gathered there.

A large and portable elevated stage had been driven out to the sandy shore, of which eight men stood on top. All garbed in crimson, they had red hoods, effectively concealing their identities. At each of their sides were 9mm pistols, holstered loosely and ready to go if necessary. Those on the stage weren't the only red ones there, though. In fact, dozens of others stood in front of the stand; those that were on the edge held bright red banners, displaying a golden "A" on each side. _What the hell… Wait a second… are they…?_

The lead man stood at a thin podium. Michael could catch a glimpse of a revolver on his waist. Unlike the others, his robe was garnished in golden decor, signifying his prominence over the group. He experimentally tapped the microphone on top of the podium, finding it to be working as it should. "Before we begin, I want to thank you all on behalf of the Assembly for being here today." _Oh no…_ The following applause proved to be one of the worst sounds he had heard before. "Thank you," the leader said, trying to calm the crowd down.

"Girls," Michael whispered, "I think we should head out." But his words fell on deaf ears; their attention was focused on what the red beasts had to say.

"I'm sure you can all guess why we're here - to inspire the hearts and minds of the people of our great nation. To inspire you to rise up against the parasites that, as we speak, are trying to infest this region. The parasites that try to inject our beautiful law with immorality and sickness. My friends, do not be fooled - though they say they are tolerant, these lowlifes want nothing more than communism, wealth redistribution, and their multitude of sexual sicknesses - that is what you can expect from the left."

The onlookers clapped, several cheering aloud for the fiery words. As the noise finally died down, the leader continued. "As a conservative nation, it is our duty to stop this threat before it grows - before these people breed like the vermin they are. Do not underestimate the left; they will never cease their attacks on our rules. They are brilliant - some of the most brilliant minds on the planet - and they will stop at nothing to achieve their goals. Bribes, assassinations, and crookedness pave the road they walk on. The road, of course, to complete domination over our people, our businesses, and our way of life as we know it. They come to change it all, merely to suit their interests."

The girls continued to ignore his plead to leave. Zeke, too, was curious as to what they were saying. But Michael knew where this was likely to head, and he hoped he could get them away without having to resort to the balls.

"Again, our enemies are crafty and cunning. They do not wish to raise alarm. Instead, they want to repeal our nation's foundations one by one - one law at a time - until the end result is the polar opposite of what we have now. And if you think that's good, just look at Kalos right now. Sure, a few seemingly good attributes here and there, but they just screwed themselves over. Their national debt has been rising drastically over the years as a result of the stupidity known as socialism, government handouts, and the crookedness of their politicians. So what do they do to counteract this? They simply raise the taxes on the wealthier members of society, rather than take responsible measures towards solving their problems. And now, the very people they have become dependent upon for the vast majority of their region's funding are leaving in record numbers. Kalos will suffer an economic collapse before long - some say within the next decade or so. Of course, that isn't what _their_ economists would say. Those despicable creatures would rather lie to the masses in order to retain their positions and avoid the mockery of the liberal fools in power. Soon, the country will be an impoverished mess, and the whole population of people that do not know how to provide for themselves… they will wither away and perish. Is that what you want for our beautiful, thriving country?"

"NO!" hundreds in the crowd said.

"Then help us put an end to those that would threaten our security and stability. There are several ways you can help do this; of course, you can join us in the most honorable ideological war in our nation's history. We welcome all that support our causes, and would be honored to have any of you inside of our ranks. But aside from that, you can fight off this ignorant stupidity by simply voting. After all, the polls are the ultimate message from the people to those in charge. So, on behalf of the Assembly, I implore you all to keep our principles in mind as you cast your ballots.

"As I have said before, our enemies are trying to slowly infest us so that the average person will remain unaware as their plot is carried out - a plot that, if completed, will destroy all that we hold dear to us. One of those steps in the process is the recent concept of legalizing human-pokémon marriages." _S…shit._ The murmuring of the crowd portrayed the tension of the topic.

"The media, I'm sure, has labeled us as villains for our fight against the issue. Media networks across Kanto, Kalos, and Unova are portraying the Assembly to be the living embodiment of intolerance - everything wrong with the world. This news comes from the same liars that would have you believe that Kalos's economy is fine, that Kanto's military is even somewhat operable, and that socialism is an even remotely functioning system. Do not buy into the lies; we have not committed any such atrocity that they have claimed. The Assembly never has, and never will, hunt people down - even if they choose to engage in their perversities. The perversity, of course, of their sexual preferences towards pokémon."

The girls' demeanors dropped, and from what he could easily see, their feelings were crushed. Michael thought that Veronica would lash out and attack, but he couldn't have been more wrong. Instead, she joined suit with the others as the tears streamed down her face. "Girls… please…" Wordlessly, they followed him away from the scene of the event. Though their sobs were louder than the receding words of the speaker, the Assembly admin's speech could still be heard as they walked away.

"Those sick people should be content enough that they aren't castrated and imprisoned for their crime against decency. But their freedom to act in favor of their perverse natures is not enough - no, they want 'marriage equality' as they claim. Please, do not fall for this pathetic attempt to change the concrete nature of our law." Elise fell into a heap on the ground, bawling her eyes out. Michael's heart broke at the sight of his beautiful glaceon in such a state. He picked her up, cradling her in his arms, and hugged her against him tightly. _What I wouldn't give to beat the ever living shit outta that guy…_ But Wesley had made it clear that they were to stay out of trouble. And as much as he hated to admit it, he wouldn't get very far by acting on his own - they were all armed. _Maybe one day… one day they won't be in such large numbers…_

 **…..**

For his and Veronica's safety, Michael decided to return them all to their balls and take a cab back to the resort. He trusted the flygon with his life, but she was in no condition to be taking to the sky. As soon as he walked into their room, he released them all, seeing that they were in no better state than when he had recalled them earlier. "Girls… I'm so sorry about all of that…"

"N-no," Alaina stammered, "you t-tried to get us to leave…"

"That's… what they think of us?" Elise whimpered. "That we're… sick?" Michael didn't want to answer her, but the time for hiding this had passed.

"Girls… I know that you all are aware that some people don't take too well to our relationship…" They nodded in response. "Well… these guys are the worst of those people. Regardless of what that guy said, they _have_ viciously attacked those they don't like…"

"Those… like us?" Charlotte quietly asked.

"…Yeah," Michael said after a moment. "They've already killed several…" He looked up at them and continued. "But they don't know who all they're dealing with here. If they ever try to even get close to hurting one of you girls, I will kill them without hesitation. Nobody will _ever_ lay a finger on my girls."

It took the better part of an hour to reassure them that they would always be safe, but he finally managed to come across. After he had done so, he went next door with Layla.

"So," she said, unbuttoning his shorts, "are you actually gonna take off the briefs in the shower?"

"Y-yes… Just wait until after before we do anything, okay?"

"Oh, alright." The two of them showered together; this time, Michael did as she wished. "You know," she said while finishing up, scrubbing her tail, "I've gotta say, I'm a bit disappointed with my sisters."

"Why's that?" Michael asked before turning off the water. He grabbed the pair of towels draped over the curtain rod, and handed one of them to her.

"Well, it seems like they've only been concerned with getting themselves off."

"I'm not so sure that's the—."

"Charlotte just had you pleasure her for _three_ rounds last night," Layla replied. "But none of them have even so much as let you release twice." _They… talk about each other's sex with me?_

"It's… really not a problem," he said. "I mean, I enjoyed myself too, you know…"

"Mmm, sounds to me like you don't know what you want," she said, gripping his towel. "But don't worry, I'll give you the best night of your life." With that, she yanked the towel down.

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"Woah," she said, looking at his manhood, "looks like my sisters weren't exaggerating one bit." She took him by the hand, leading him to the bed. "Tonight is _your_ night, love, and I'm gonna make sure you know that." The lucario gripped his sides and bent forward, resulting in her muzzle being a few inches away from his hardening member.

"Layla, what are you—." He was cut off by a long, slow lick, trailing from the base of his manhood to the tip. Looking down, his eyes were greeted with probably the sexiest sight in his whole life - Layla looking up at him with a smirk while sucking on the head, all while leaning forth in a way that revealed her tight rear. Her tail was curved over her back, swaying from side to side as she began to take more inside. _Oh… t-there's no way I'm gonna last long from this…_ She fit in as much as she could, managing to take most of his member within the confines of her mouth. With her tongue pressed against the bottom of his shaft, she pulled back, leaving only the tip inside, before engulfing him in a swift motion.

"That… feels amazing," he said, rubbing her cheek. As she continued bobbing her head on his saliva-covered member, she lowered her right forepaw to her sex and began rubbing herself. As she bobbed back and forth, her tongue traced over every facet of his manhood, further intensifying the sensation that her tight mouth was providing. _Shit… unless she tones it down a bit, I'll be done in a minute…_

But Layla showed no intention of slowing down. Instead, she sped up her head movements, sucking him off with quicker motions. With a lustful gaze, she stopped pleasuring herself, and placed both forepaws at the base of his member, pumping what she could not reach with her mouth. "D-damn… Layla, it won't… be long," he gasped. The feeling of her fluids all over his dick was heavenly, and the way she looked at him enticed him to fill her throat.

His hands worked their way to the back of her head, where he helped her out in her endeavor. Realizing what he was doing, she stopped performing the action on her own, and waited for him. Carefully, he thrust into her mouth, making sure not to add more of himself than she could take. With that, she lowered her forepaw once more, hastily rubbing her soaking pussy. "I'm about… to cum…" He began to withdraw his member from her mouth, but she gripped his sides and held him firmly, He looked at her questioningly, but her only response was a flirtatious wink. It looked like the only place she would let him finish was inside, and he had run out of time. He felt the familiar tightening in his loins, and he released his essence down her throat.

"Mmm," she hummed, swallowing every drop as it splashed the back of her mouth. _Oh Arceus… that is so hot…_ The horny lucario took it all, then finally released her oral hold of his member. "Your seed tastes great," she said, before giving his member one last loving lick.

"Layla," he panted, "that was… incredible…"

"I know," she said in a sultry tone, "we will need to do that much more in the future." After a few minutes, she hopped up on the bed, then lowered her chest. Her soaked slit stared at him from underneath her lifted tail. On all fours, her message was received.

"You want it doggy-style?" he asked.

"Mhm. You will be in complete control," she said, further raising her rear. "So please, don't keep me waiting." Michael climbed atop the bed, kneeling behind her. His member sprung back to life as he ran his hands over her curvaceous ass, spreading her tight cheeks apart in order to see her small backdoor opening. _I'll have to try that sometime,_ he thought as he guided his member towards her vulva. "Ram it in all the way and don't stop," she told him.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I mean, the first time tends to—."

"Michael," she said, rolling her eyes, "shut up and fuck me." He placed his hands on each side of her hips, and, receiving a nod of confirmation, thrust his member inside, hilting into her tight, warm pussy in one swift motion. Though he felt her barrier give way, she released no sounds of pain. _What the…_ "Why did you stop?" she asked, looking back at him.

"You… didn't even flinch…"

"Yeah, steel type, remember? High pain tolerance."

"Oh…"

"Now are you gonna sit there all day, or are you gonna keep going?"

"Alright, geez…" He pulled out, loving the friction from her wet, velvety walls, before slamming back in. She felt like Alaina in size, though not quite as tight as Charlotte.

"Oh yes!" she moaned, looking upwards. Her tail swished back and forth, stroking his chest as he plunged into her depths. Michael ran his right hand down her side, trailing up her hourglass figure and underneath to her chest. Massaging through her fur, he found what he was looking for - a small but present nipple. He circled his fingers around it, grinning in response to her intensifying moans of pleasure.

As he slammed their hips together, he felt a rush of fluids from within her clenching sex; that, coupled with her trembling and long, drawn-out moan, and he knew that she had reached her first orgasm. Throughout her release, he did not stop thrusting into her. "There… you go," she huffed as she finished coating his member with her juices. "Just keep… on going…" Michael responded with a deep, powerful hilt inside of her, causing her to gasp.

"Trust me," he said, continuing his dominant protrusion into her, "I had _no_ intention of stopping." As he picked up the pace with his thrusts, he couldn't help but feel at odds with his somewhat possessive behavior over his lucario. _But she… sure as hell isn't complaining._ Deciding to go for another position, he hilted, then gripped her tightly, rolling onto his back, resulting in her laying atop him.

"Hmm? What are you—."

"I just wanted to be able to do this," he explained, claiming her lips. She closed her eyes, savoring the kiss, immediately opening her mouth to grant him access and placing a hand on the back of his head, drawing him in. As she spread her legs widely, he began penetrating her from below. With his idle hand on her stomach, he trailed down to her clit, rubbing it furiously to try and bring about another climax.

"Ohhh master," she moaned after they ended their lip-lock, taking him by surprise. "You want… to fill me… don't you? You want to make me yours, right?"

"Hell yes," he gasped, speeding up his pace, "I sure as hell do."

"Well go on - I'm close too!" _I can… tell…_ The way she tilted her head to the side, with her eyes clenched shut, was a serious turn on. In such a position, her neck was left open. _There we are…_ He claimed her lower neck, eliciting a sharp gasp from the lucario. "Y-yes," she cried, her eyes going wide from pleasure, "I-I'm all y…yours…" Lowering his hand, while still petting her clit with the other, Michael cupped her firm butt, squeezing her cheek.

"Here it is Layla!" She smashed their lips together, engaging in a sloppy, deep kiss. He pinched her clit, pushing as far in as he could and giving her rope after rope of his seed.

"Mmmm," she purred, sucking on his tongue as she reached her own release. They both pulled back, panting heavily from their climaxes. "Ahhh… what… a ride," she said between breaths. He nodded in agreement, beginning to withdraw his member from her. "Don't," she said, looking at him with pleading eyes. "I want you to stay inside me…"

"…Okay then…" The two of them remained like that, though Michael caressed her curvaceous ass every moment or so.

"Come here," she said, drawing him into another make-out session. For minutes on end, they chased each other's tongues, darting amongst one another's teeth. Michael took in the sight of her deep, crimson eyes, basking in the afterglow along with her.

As he held her tightly in his embrace, Michael reflected on the fact that he had slept with nearly all of the pokémon that he had trained. _Only one to go,_ he thought.

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\**

"Ver, really - there's no need. There's no penalty for switching out. Just let Layla take this one!"

"Good idea," the lucario said. "After all, I am pretty loose after last night."

"Michael, you better not recall me!" she hissed, ignoring her teammate's perversity. The flygon was noticeably tired, having already taken out two foes without taking a single hit. But her combination of staying in the air and dealing out attacks, all while avoiding her opponents' strikes, had exhausted her. Now, she was paying for her endeavor, trembling as she stood against an aggron - Jackson Mallis's final pokémon.

"You can barely stand, let alone battle. I'm not going to let you—."

"I've got this. Nothing that slow could ever get the best of me." The aggron began to make her way forward, causing Veronica to ready herself. _Shit… she's not gonna let up…_ He began thinking over her moves, and what he could have her do to win the battle quickly. _Alright, that aggron couldn't possibly stand an earth power from Ver. If she can manage to get a hit on her before the aggron attacks, then it'll be over…_ The aggron broke out into a bounding jog, closing the gap between her and the grounded dragon.

"Ver, use earth power!" The flygon's body started radiating, and she charged forth.

"Aggron, duck it and use iron tail!" the Jack shouted. As Veronica approached, she released her attack. The aggron lowered her body, evading the ground-type attack that surely would have knocked her out, and responded with a harsh sweep of her tail. Michael watched as the steel type connected her blow, slamming her large tail into Veronica's side with a resounding smack.

"Ver!" She clasped her side, stumbling backward as she tried to regain her balance. She attempted to take to the air, but the aggron rammed into her with an iron head attack. _No…_

"Use metal claw!" Ver snapped back, catching her opponent's arm before she could take a third attack. _Good - if she can land a quick shot on her…_

"Ver, use bulldoze!" Overpowering the aggron with a brutal shove, Veronica drove her into the dirt, covering the pokémon's shiny armor in thick layers of dust. She sent her off with a hard push, causing the aggron to slide towards her trainer. She slowly managed to get back on her feet, but did so with great difficulty. _Alright, there's no chance in hell that she'll be able to take another hit like that._

"Use iron defense aggron!" _…Unless she raises her defense…_

"Ver, try another earth power!" Now with some distance between the two, the flygon was able to safely charge the attack. The ground around their opponent started to stir, and quickly shot upwards into her frame. _That should have done it…_ The aggron tensed up in response to the attack, before falling forward with a pained groan.

Veronica made her way back to Michael, her head lowered. "I…I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I wanted to show you how much stronger I'd gotten… and now our score is going to drop because of it…" That was true - the only reason they had managed to achieve perfect scores was because they had finished the battles quickly and without taking a hit. But that wasn't the case anymore.

"It's fine, Ver - really. And don't think that you ever have to prove anything to me, alright?" She nodded, and they turned their attention to the screen. The numbers appeared, showing the scores of the two trainers' performances. The two of them were relieved to find out that their scores were still high, and hadn't taken too hard of a hit - a 8.5, 8.7, and a 7.9. _Alright, that gives us… 85.1 out of 90._ It would be impossible to say that they wouldn't continue. They would be getting the confirmation in a few days, though.

"Eh, it'll be fine," Zeke say reassuringly to Veronica. "Do you honestly think that there was anyone who scored higher than that? You all got nearly a perfect score."

"Yeah…"

"Ver, it's okay - I'd much rather have you perform this way in the elimination rounds, anyways. Think about it - scores aren't gonna matter at that point. All that matters is who outlasts the other." And that would be their hope - to outlast all of the competition. With their place in the elimination rounds likely secure, all that was left was to see who that competition would be.

 **…..**

After lunch, they all made sure to take a detour back to the resort . The Assembly had been campaigning nonstop throughout the last few days, and none of them particularly liked the idea of hearing another speech. As they waited at a crosslight, Michael felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Withdrawing it, he found that he had received a text - from Thomas.

 _Sorry I didn't get back to you yesterday, I've just been going through a lot ever since Ivy said what she did. Now, I don't know what to do. I thought she was just my pokémon._

Michael typed out his response, thinking his words over carefully before sending the text.

 _I completely understand, since I went through this with the girls. It almost feels like you never really knew them at first - especially since they'd kept it all hidden all along. i know it's a difficult situation for ya - probably contrasts your feelings about the whole matter. I wasn't so sure about it myself when I started out. And I honestly don't know what to say to you in this case. After all, we've got pretty different opinions on the matter. What I can say, though, is that I encourage you to look past the anatomical differences. Look at her heart rather than her body. If you find that you love her, just say "fuck it" to the other differences. It's not immoral, though many think it's disgusting. I just encourage you to be open to the idea. And who knows? You might just surprise yourself._

"Come on, Michael - you're holding up the line," Zeke said, nudging him in the back. In retrospect, he probably should've picked a better spot to text rather than the edge of the sidewalk.

"Something the matter?" Alaina asked from over him as they crossed the street.

"Eh, not really. It's just Thomas. Y'know, that whole situation with him and Ivy."

"Oh. What's going on?"

"He's struggling with his thoughts for sure, but that's all I know. Truth be told, though, I think it's all gonna work out in the end."

 **…..**

The stadium was fuller than he had previously seen. Now, there were thousands in the stands, many of whom were other participants, as well as the two announcers. Today, the participants in the upcoming rounds would be announced. The very next day, the battling would begin.

Michael and the girls sat amongst the participants and onlookers, eagerly waiting to see how they stood amongst their opponents.

"The performances have all been scored, and the results are in!" the female announcer said.

"This year's contestants sure have been skilled, haven't they Mary?" the other said.

"They sure have, Scott. The judges have witnessed unprecedented talent from both our newcomers and our veterans - this should definitely be an exciting year for the audience."

"Speaking of the judges - here they come!" The twelve judges entered the arena, walking onto the elevated platform in the center. One of them - a gray-haired man - stepped forth to the podium, a sheet in hand. After formally introducing himself, he explained how the listing would work. Names would be called out from lowest to highest scoring, starting with the sixty-fourth contestant. He adjusted his reading glasses, then began calling out the names.

"Contestant number sixty-four: Cameron Daniels, scoring at 70.8 points." The audience clapped, and the judge continued. "Contestant number sixty-three: Jackson Mallis, scoring at 71.9 points." _Huh, looks like he made it after all._ One by one, the names were announced, and the scores ascended. For the better part of half an hour, the listing went on; though they were eager to find their placing, After the tenth-placed contestant, they all started paying closer attention - the scores were approaching their own.

"We should be up soon," Charlotte said while other names were announced.

"Contestant number six: Ryan Trevor, scoring at 84.8 points… Contestant number five: Michael Higgs, scoring at 85.1 points."

"Yes!" Elise yipped. _Fifth place? Huh, not bad at all. Wonder who got ahead of us._

"Contestant number four: Jason Corinth, scoring at 86.8 points… Contestant number three: Nora Kristie, scoring at 87.2 points." Michael and the girls held their breaths upon hearing the next candidate. "Oh? Well this is a surprise. Scoring at 88.9 points, we have Will from the Indigo Elite Four!" _You have got to be kidding me…_ Memories of their loss to the first Elite Four member ran rampant through his mind. In only a short time, he had managed to improve enough to beat Michael on his second attempt at the championship, bringing his and the girls' campaign to a disappointing halt. If he could improve in only a few weeks time like that, then Michael didn't want to know how much better he had gotten over the three year period from their last battle.

"That's just great," Veronica growled, likely remembering being shot out of the air by the psychic of Will's xatu.

"It's alright," Michael said. "We'll find a way. And besides, we might not even battle him…"

"Let's hope not," Layla said.

"And finally," the judge said, "scoring a perfect ninety for the fourth year in a row, Cianwood's very own Leo Browning!" The crowd erupted.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **And that sums up the scoring rounds. I know the Assembly stuff was probably rough, but it was necessary for the upcoming events of the story. Be sure to watch out for them as the story progresses.**

 **If you enjoy reading, please leave a review and tell me what I did right or wrong. All feedback is greatly appreciated!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:**

 **Well, I'm sure you all have noticed the inactivity on my part this last month. I'm sorry I couldn't get this to you all sooner; again, I have had a lot of shit going on, and am trying to keep my class rank high while applying for scholarships. I've got a lot on my plate, but I still could have probably had this out by a week earlier. What I can say, though, is this - I will see this story, and its two sequels to completion. We have a _long_ way to go.**

 **Special thanks to Umix3 for reviewing the lemon scenes, and special thanks to Archangel2462 for beta reading the chapters.**

 **Anyways, hope that you all enjoy reading this chapter. If you do, please consider leaving a review and voicing your thoughts.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue **

**/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"When everything feels like an uphill battle, just think of the view from the top."**

 **-Unknown**

* * *

 **Ch. 14 - The Tournament**

It was the day that Michael had his first elimination battle that he discovered just how popular an attraction the Coastline tournament really was - the stands were occupied with thousands of locals and tourists. Ticket sales would probably generate millions for the city, and visitor turnout would surely increase as the finals grew closer.

This time, the boundaries of the field were redrawn to place the contestants in the center, giving both of the participants a larger battling space. As Michael looked to the screen, he ran his fingers over the balls at his side. His opponent - a young woman by the name of Leilani Kahele - had both an ice-type and a fire-type. Her more tanned skin and foreign name led him to believe that she was from the Alola region. _Alright, Char would probably be a good start. She'll be resistant to the fire type and strong against the ice._

The referee walked out into the middle of the field, making sure that both trainers were ready. She was required to release her pokémon first. After receiving the confirmation, he gave them both the signal. On cue, Leilani threw out her choice, followed by Michael.

Materializing on her side was a white, pristine ninetales, confirming his suspicion. _Wow - you don't see those every day._ Charlotte materialized, flashing him a smile before squaring off against the other fox. She pulled out her stick, engulfing the tip in flames. _Alright, she resists pretty much anything that ninetales could throw at her, so this shouldn't take long._

"And the two have released quite an interesting match off," Scott announced. "The typing favors Higgs, but that particular kind of ninetales has a reputation for being fast on its feet."

"That they do, Scott. This should be an entertaining battle between the two newcomers." The ref left the field, heading to the side boundary.

"Are both trainers ready?" he asked.

"Yes!" Leilani yelled.

"Yes," Michael said.

"Then begin!"

"Aurora, use extrasensory!" The ninetales's eyes flashed as she shot a rainbow-like beam towards Charlotte, bridging the gap between the two of them in what seemed like a fraction of a second.

"Char, counter it with flamethrower!" She released the scorching flame, splitting the beam into thousands of small, intense splinters of light.

"Would you look at that! Looks like we're off to an energetic start!" Mary said.

"Try and get her with a psyshock!" The braixen swiftly twisted the stick in her hand, focusing on forming the purple crystalline shapes around her opponent.

"Jump it Aurora!" The ninetales leaped over the surrounding crystals just as they closed in to her. She managed to evade most of them, but one slammed into her side, causing her to wince. "Shake it off and use return!"

"Don't let her get close - hit her with a shock wave!" They needed to impede the ninetales at all costs, and shock wave was Charlotte's fastest attack. The jolts of electricity shot towards their opponent in an instant, striking the entirety of her frame in mid-dash.

"N-niiiiine!" she yelled out in pain as the static crackled over her body.

"Ohhh, and that ninetales has taken a nasty hit," Mary announced. The white vixen shook herself off, resuming her charge towards Charlotte.

"Aurora, try and pin her down with a dark pulse!"

"Charlotte, use heat wave!" The surge of dark energy formed around the muzzle of the ninetales, converting to a distorted wave as it quickly made its way to Charlotte. "Dodge it!" She was almost too late, as the beam scraped against her shoulder. Running aside to avoid the trailing beam, she sliced her stick through the air, creating dozens of small, scorching ripples towards the ice-type.

"Get out of the—." Leilani was too late; Aurora had taken the blunt of the attack, and fell on her side. The referee raised his hand, making a quick motion towards the ninetales. On the screen, Leilani's light blue circle dimmed. _Alright, now all that's left is the fire type._ She pulled out a level ball and released its inhabitant.

"Look at that - Leilani sure is full of surprises. Never seen one of those up close before." In front of her stood an alolan marowak. He tightly gripped his stone-hard bone, wavering its blue-green flames on each end. Glaring through the intimidating skull he wore, he took his stance - his left hand forward, and his bone-club raised behind him.

"Charlotte, think you can take this one?" he asked.

"Oh please - I seriously doubt he could lay a claw on me." The marowak growled in response and looked back at his trainer, expecting an order.

"Specter, take her out with a bonemerang!" The marowak violently hurled its bone at her, sending it flying towards her legs.

"Jump it and use psybeam!" Charlotte leaped over the incoming attack, responding with one of her own. As the purple beam zipped towards the marowak, the bone speedily returned to its wielder. Catching it just in the nick of time, Specter rapidly spun it in front of him, creating a furious, fiery display that blocked the attack. _Huh, that was a pretty clever way to protect himself…_

"Shadow bone!" Leilani yelled. Specter dashed towards Charlotte, lunging into the air and spinning the bone overhead.

"Don't let him get close, Char!" If he managed to land a strike on her, it would probably knock her out. She couldn't afford close encounters - none of her moves were physical. As he brought the bone down, she dodged to the right, trotting back hastily to distance herself from the marowak. "Now hit him with a psyshock!" The purple crystals formed around her opponent, closing in as quickly as they appeared.

"Specter, you know what to do!" He made a sharp turn, spinning the bone in a quick circular motion, shattering the psyshock and leaving him unscathed once again. The audience clapped at the display.

"He sure is formidable with that bone," Scott said. "Looks like Higgs and the braixen are going to have some difficulty in landing a hit on their opponent." _…He's right… That marowak is blocking everything we're doing. Somehow, we need to get that damn bone away from him…_

"Use bonemerang!" As Specter hauled back to launch the bone at her, Michael got an idea. _That's it - the bone is out of his control in the air!_ It was thrown ferociously, curving towards Charlotte at intimidating speeds.

"Char, knock it outta the air with a flamethrower!" The bone drew near, and she spewed an intense flame into its flight path. Just what Michael had hoped would happen did; the bone's path was interrupted, and it fell to the ground in front of the braixen's feet. She caught on to what he had planned, and kicked it to the side. Specter's eyes went wide at his new predicament.

"That was some quick thinking," Mary said. "Higgs has found a way around the marowak's tactic."

"Specter, use… uh… use flame charge!" Leilani shouted. The uneasiness was clear in her voice. He obeyed her command, running towards Charlotte with fire enshrouding his body.

"Char, now try a psybeam!" She pointed her stick towards the incoming marowak and released another psybeam from the flame on the end. The beam connected with Specter's head, forcing him to halt his attack and stumble backwards. Eyeing his fallen bone, he tried to make his way aside to it. "Don't let up!" Charlotte intensified her attack, and her opponent's pace became gradual as he fought the urge to collapse.

"They really aren't making it easy for him," Mary said. "I'm not so sure that he'll be able to push through this." Specter was painfully close to his target, but Charlotte would not let him obtain it. As the last bout of strength was stripped from him, the marowak fell face-first, only a mere foot away from the bone. Everyone watched as Specter struggled to get up, but fell back down, unable to make another movement.

The referee walked out onto the field. "Kahele is unable to continue battling - Higgs is the winner!" Placing her stick back in her tail, Charlotte darted over to Michael, who crouched down to her level.

"You were amazing out there," he said, rubbing her head. In truth, he would prefer to be more affectionate, but they all knew that such actions best be taken with extreme caution, being that the Assembly was in the area.

"And that concludes this battle," Mary said. "Higgs will progress to the next round. Kahele, sorry girl - that's it for you."

 **…..**

Despite the fact that they were done there, Michael and the others agreed to stay and watch some of their competition - after all, it definitely wouldn't hurt to look into their future opponents. So they found a nice, roomy opening in the bleachers, bought a large tub of popcorn for Ver, and began studying the battlers. "Think you could get that one?" he asked Elise. A nincada was tormenting a kadabra, staying out of its reach and nailing it with one blurring attack after another.

"Mmm, I think so. Maybe with an ice shard or a blizzard."

"I think so too," he said, tracing his fingers through her fur. "Eh, I'd probably go for a blizzard - it'd cover a large area and be hard as hell to dodge, even for that thing." Speaking of which - the nincada had delivered the finishing strike to the kadabra, ending the battle.

"Out like a light," Layla joked.

"Yep," Michael said, stretching out. "I'd say it's about time we head back. What do you girls think?"

"Yeah - gimme a sec; my legs are asleep," Charlotte said. The two trainers left the field, leaving it open for the next contestants.

As they stood up and began heading towards the exit, the next battlers were announced. "Our next contestants are Liam Bauer and previous champion Leo Browning!" She said the last words with obvious excitement.

"…I think we need to watch this one," Michael said.

"Definitely," Layla said. They took their seats once again, watching as the two came out onto the field. Leo may have been an inch or two taller than Michael, had a medium build and brown hair, and looked to be in his mid twenties. Even from his position in the stands, Michael could see the smug grin on his face. He took an ultra ball from his belt and carelessly tossed it out, releasing a large tyranitar, who cast his vicious glare at the opposing krookodile.

"Damn," Zeke said, "that son of a bitch looks menacing."

"Yeah," Michael replied, "but it can't take a fighting type move, and I know that krookodile's probably got one or two up his sleeve." The other trainer, surely enough, ordered the krookodile to use brick break. He ran towards the tyranitar, preparing to release his threatening attack. Leo waited until the two pokémon were only ten yards apart before he gave his own command.

"Giga impact," Leo simply said. The tyranitar lunged forward, slamming its full weight violently into the aggressor. The krookodile was thrown back, landing on his side and rolling over like a rag-doll. Though he had fainted, he was indistinguishable from death. The onlookers burst out into applause from the brutal result, though the tyranitar seemed to be just as indifferent as the second he was released from the ball.

 _Shit,_ Michael thought, _that was completely effortless on his part. And that krookodile looks like he's seen quite a few battles…_ The realization of how difficult it would be to match this trainer - provided he even made it that far - came as intimidating. That, and the fact that Leo had won the last four tournaments… the odds were definitely in Leo's favor.

 **…..**

"Michael?" Alaina said, gaining his attention. He was laying on the bed and looking up at the ceiling, completely unfocused on the room around him.

"Huh?"

"What's wrong? You've been rather distant lately…" She rested on his torso, looking into his eyes.

"I'm sorry, love - I've just been thinking."

"It's about the tournament, isn't it?"

"…Yeah… yeah, it is." The latias nuzzled into his neck, then up to his cheek.

"You shouldn't worry about such things - it _is_ supposed to be fun, after all."

"Yeah but…" He tried to come up with some sort of justification for his competitiveness - for his desire for them to finally defeat some of the greatest trainers.

"No buts about it - everything is going to work out. And besides, even if we lose, it's not like we have to stop battling or anything. There are other trainers than those in that arena, you know."

"There are," he admitted. "I just… I really want us to win this one. We got our asses handed to us back at the Indigo League, and we never finished our Hoenn campaign."

"Again, it's not like this is your last opportunity to fight good trainers. Please, just lighten up a little, okay?" He rubbed her neck, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"Alright," he chuckled.

"Good. Now, we've got the bed to ourselves and it's past eight. But," she said, beginning to pull his pajama pants down, "…we don't think we have to go straight to sleep."

 **…..**

The first wave of battles was now over, bringing the remaining thirty-two participants one step closer to the finals. Accessing the resort's website, he looked over the tournament brackets. Fortunately, both Leo and Will were on the other side of the bracket; if both of them progressed, and they most likely would, then they would be battling each other. _Ha, that's a battle I'd like to see._ The thought that he wouldn't have to deal with either of the two brought him relief, but he was curious to see the results of their end of the semi-finals.

He closed his laptop, slipped on a black polo and his aviators, and rubbed Layla's shoulder. "Come on - it's time we head out. Wouldn't wanna miss our second battle."

"Of course," she said, stretching before springing out of the bed. She went into the other room, while Michael went to Zeke's door. With a grin, he raised his hand.

"You better not pound on my fucking door!" Zeke shouted from the bathroom. _Son of a bitch…_

"How'd you know?"

"You've only done it like ten times already. Damn drill sergeant."

"Huh. Well, we're about to head out. Think Layla's ready to kick some ass."

 **…..**

"And on this side, we have Isaac Benton," Scott announced. Michael looked his foe over; he had short, dirty blonde hair, a sandy beard, and sported a somewhat lanky build. _An electric type and a fighting type…_ He thought over his options; it was, after all, his turn to go first, so he needed to choose wisely. _Well, I could use Ver - she'll resist the electric type, and as flying moves… But then again… Layla hasn't had the chance to battle in awhile, and she's itching for a fight._ Making his decision, he took out her luxury ball, releasing the lucario.

Isaac sent out his own choice just after him. The electric type turned out to be a raichu. _Alright, that thing definitely couldn't take many of Layla's physical attacks. But then again, it's probably faster than her, and it can deliver some nasty thunderbolts…_

The referee walked into the middle of the field, asking if both of the trainers were ready. After receiving their confirmations, he left for the sidelines, allowing the battle to begin.

"Layla, use extreme speed!" Michael said, making sure they got the first move in. Layla dashed towards the raichu at breakneck speeds, becoming the blue blur that slammed into him. A resounding thud sounded; the raichu was sent rolling as a result of the quick, harsh kick to his chest, which he clutched in pain.

"Oh, that _had_ to hurt!" Mary said.

"I'm sure - that was one heck of a hit," Scott replied.

"Bolt, don't let them push you around like that - use thunder!" Bolt's cheeks crackled, his tail going rigid.

"Get down Layla!" She managed to duck the incoming jolt of electricity, remaining unscathed as the bright blue bolt zipped overhead and towards the other end of the field. "Launch an aura sphere!" He hoped that they could manage to stall the raichu long enough for Layla to get closer - enough to land another blow.

"Use protect!" _Perfect._ Bolt formed the protective barrier in front of himself, causing the dark blue sphere to crash into it harmlessly.

"Now use extreme speed again!"

"Bolt, dodge it!" The raichu barely managed to jump aside as Layla rushed by, coming to a sliding halt as she readied herself for the next attack. "Good, now try an electro ball!"

"Layla, counter with a flash cannon!" As the crackling orb was launched at the lucario, she charged up a silver beam, releasing it straight at the incoming attack. The two neutralized one another, leaving the two facing off against each other.

"Hit her with a thunder punch!" Isaac commanded. Bolt pounced for his opponent, lunging at her with a crackling paw readied.

"Counter!" Michael saw the slight grin appear on her face as she took a defensive stance. The raichu's strike was aimed at her face; she spun to the side with a graceful movement, bringing her paw around swiftly. It connected with the back of his head, and he fell limp.

"Well that was brutal," Scott announced. "Looks like the raichu is out like a light."

Isaac returned his fallen raichu, and released his next pokémon. _Oh, you have got to be kidding me…_

"What are the odds of that happening?" Mary asked.

"I imagine they can't be too high," Scott replied. Standing in front of Layla was a male lucario. _Ah, great - they're both weak to each other._ They would have to play things smart, lest Layla get hit with a powerful fighting-type move. The two foes glared at each other, and Michael knew that the male lucario wasn't a pushover; he could tell that much by looking at his bulk. But he also knew just what Layla was capable of, and he seriously doubted that he would be half as nimble as her.

"Layla, hit 'em with a water pulse!" She attracted the moisture from the air, forming it into a dense spiral of water, which she shot at the other lucario. On instinct, he jumped over the pressurized blast, landing a few feet behind her.

"Brick break!"

"Layla duck!" Fully trusting her trainer, she crouched down, avoiding the punch that barely missed her. Knowing what to do without command, she caught his arm, yanking him over her shoulder and onto his backside with a slam. He tried to roll to the side, but she nailed him point-blank with a power-up punch to the muzzle. "Way to go, Layla!" Michael shouted as the male hurriedly backed off. Touching a paw to his muzzle, and finding the black fur on his hand stained with his blood, he released a threatening growl. But if anyone should be afraid, it was him - especially now that Layla was fired up.

"Atlas, use close-combat!" _Shit…_

"Don't let him hit you!" She dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding a punch aimed at her torso. She hit the ground as a roundhouse kick swept over her head. "Quick - use thunder punch!" Layla slammed her fist into her opponent's shin, causing the Lucario to growl and stumble back. Atlas's leg wobbled, and he visibly struggled to stand - a result of the nasty hit he had taken directly to the leg.

"Don't just stand there and take that - use aura sphere!"

"Right back at 'em!" Layla wasted no time in charging up her own attack, hurling the dark orb straight at her aggressor's. Atlas's dissipated into nothingness, while Layla's kept heading towards him.

"Atlas, look out!" Of course, it did no good; aura sphere never missed its mark. The male lucario clutched his stomach, bending forth from the intense pain.

"Layla, finish him off with a high-jump kick!" In a split second, she closed the distance between her and the other lucario with a leap. Her foot connected with his chest, and Atlas was sent to the ground, sprawled out on his back. The crowd erupted as she casually walked back to Michael; the male lucario was down for the count.

"And Higgs takes this match with relative ease," Scott said. "He'll be going on to the next round."

"This might be a trainer to keep an eye on," Mary added.

 **…..**

Charlotte rested on top of Michael, trailing her hand down his bare chest. He clasped her lower back, but went no further - their lust had run its course, and now they were simply embracing each other out of love.

Due to the final step in their relationships being taken so recently, Michael was getting action just about every night. Eery night, except for one. "Hey Char?"

"Hmm?"

"Have you all enjoyed going this far with me?" She looked up at him questioningly.

"Of course - why would you even ask something like that? Isn't it obvious?"

"I'm just wondering…" She kept her gaze focused on him, then nodded.

"It's about Elise, isn't it?" _As always, right on the nail…_

"Yeah… Do you know if she wants to hold off for awhile?"

"Hold off?" Charlotte asked.

"Yeah, she hasn't really been vocal about anything, and I'm sure she knows by now that I've slept with all of you."

"She does. It's not like it's a secret or anything."

"Do you think… that she doesn't want to—."

"That's not the case," Charlotte interrupted. "Think about it - this is Elise we're talking about. Do you really think that she is going to come straight up to you and ask for sex?" _Of course…_ The glaceon's timidity could never escape his mind, but he hadn't considered it as a factor inhibiting her forwardness with him. After all, there were now almost no barriers between him and the others, and she, too, had even been very intimate with him. "Of course, she may just need some time," Charlotte said, "but I think that you're going to have to initiate things for once."

 **…..**

Veronica roared her challenge to the opposing charizard. Kyle Hahn only had a single pokémon - meaning it was likely that he had devoted all of his training into the fire-type before them. And being their only opponent, Michael was restricted accordingly; if Ver was knocked out, then they would be out of the tournament. _But I doubt she'll let that happen…_

Truth be told, the charizard looked like he had driven countless foes into the ground. He didn't release a look of cockiness, but rather justified confidence, as though he were ready to exploit any weakness that he may find. And Ver… well, she always looked like she was ready to tear someone's throat out.

"Looks like we have ourselves a draconic standoff," Scott commented.

"Scott, you of all people should know that charizard isn't a dragon type…"

"Close enough," he replied in a slightly irritated tone. "Anyways, it'll be interesting to see who's left standing after this round. From what we've seen, both of these trainers have brought the heat."

"But unfortunately, one of them will be walking away today."

The referee exited the field; Veronica turned to him and nodded. "Let the battle begin!"

"Take to the air!" Michael said. As soon as the words left him, she took off with a quick leap.

"Follow her!" The charizard also took the battle to the sky, gaining on Veronica. _Wait for him to get closer…_ The gap between the two closed - charizards were typically faster than flygons, after all. "Use wing attack, Flint!" Kyle shouted. The charizard stiffened his wings as he closed in towards her neck.

"Ver, use dragon tail!" She swiftly spun around, slamming her tail into the unsuspecting aggressor's chest. He staggered, losing altitude as he clutched the now sore spot. "Follow it up with aerial ace!" His plan was to wear him out, both slowing him down and inhibiting his aerial capabilities. Once he was securely grounded, Ver could end it with a ground-type move. And so far, his plan was working perfectly; Veronica sped through the charizard, striking him in the shoulder. Flint landed on his feet with a thud, preparing to retaliate, and Ver joined him on the ground.

"Flint, use flamethrower!" His maw opened, and he released a scorching stream of flames towards the flygon - faster than it would take to fly over it.

"Use protect!" Veronica swiftly brought her wings over her front, craning her neck down to conceal all major vulnerabilities. In a split second, she was enshrouded in the flames. _C'mon Ver… hang in there…_ The attack lasted for half a minute before it died down. Ver's position had not changed whatsoever; she slowly opened her wings, which barely showed any signs of damage, to reveal a visibly irritated expression. The crowd murmured amongst themselves as a result of the tough display.

"Wow… if looks could kill…" Mary said.

"The flygon didn't seem harmed in the slightest by that attack," Scott commented. She began making her way towards the charizard, ready to respond with much greater brutality.

"Flint, keep your distance from her!" Once more, the charizard lifted off, knowing to avoid the dragon at close ranges.

"Keep close to him." She followed him into the sky, not allowing him to obtain a large enough distance to launch any ranged attacks. "Hit him with a return!" Veronica tried slamming into the fire-type, but he fanned his wings, stopping him in midair and causing Ver to barely clip his side with the attack.

"Quick - use dragon pulse!" _Oh shit…_ He watched as Flint hastily charged up the blue orb in his maw, releasing it into her backside. Ver roared in pain as she spiraled to the ground.

"Ver, shake it off - don't let him win that easily!" She shakily got back on her feet, facing her opponent, who was still airborne.

"Hell if that's gonna happen!" she growled. Michael thought over his options; he needed to keep Ver close to the charizard in order to prevent him from launching any more ranged attacks. Strong as she may be, Ver was weak to moves of her own type, and probably couldn't endure many more hits like that.

"Flint, finish her off with one more dragon pulse!" _Okay… think Michael…_ As the blue pulse zipped towards a still grounded Veronica, he found a solution. _If I can force him to come close, then maybe she can take him out._ Most of Veronica's moves were close-ranged, but very powerful - if he could get the charizard with one of her heavier-hitting moves, they could probably secure the victory."Use flame thrower on his attack!" She opened her mouth and launched a glowing flame, parting the incoming attack just yards ahead of her. Without the immediate threat of attack, Ver was able to escape the ground once more.

"Try again - dragon pulse!" _Huh, he's becoming pretty reliant on that. Good._

"Ver, same as last time!" She neutralized Flint's attack, further frustrating their opponents. As Michael had hoped, Kyle's strategy had been reduced to keeping his distance and trying to land another hit with dragon pulse. Just as Michael told her, Ver kept rendering the attacks useless with those of her own.

"You know what - screw this!" Kyle yelled. "Flint, use dragon claw!" The fire-type readied his attack; the claws on his right hand adopted a light-blue tint. _Perfect… just keep coming closer._ Veronica shot him a hasty, questioning glare - this one would surely hurt if she didn't do something, and Michael wasn't issuing any orders. _Just a little bit closer…_

"Now Ver! Use dragon breath!" The flygon quickly exhaled the blue fumes, hitting the charizard dead-on. His eyes went wide as the attack engulfed him, and soon, it became apparent that he wasn't going to be landing the attack at all. Flint was stuck gliding downwards, unable to move. _Alright, the shock must've paralyzed him!_

"That last attack seems to have crippled the charizard," Scott said. "Things are now looking rough for Kyle."

"He's harmless now, Ver - finish him off with a giga impact."

"No Flint, snap out of it!" Veronica climbed into the air, over the fire-type, then halted altogether. She spiraled downwards in a diagonal nosedive, tucking her wings into her body. "No!" The impact sounded throughout the stadium, and the audience went silent in shock as a result of the sheer brutality of the strike. Flint fell to the ground, completely unconscious.

 **…..**

Michael closed his laptop, having observed the outcome of the brackets. After he had defeated Kyle, he had progressed into the final eight. Leo had no difficulty in securing his win, and drew closer to the finals on his side. Both he and Will would likely meet in the semi-finals; he was eager to see the results of that battle.

The championship match would take place on December 21 - the Solstice Battle. And judging from last years championship, the stands would be packed full. He had watched Leo's battle attentively; the trainer had only used two of his four known pokémon, as he decided to switch out. _That guy didn't even have a chance…_ Leo had rather carelessly swept through the older man's team, sometimes without issuing commands. His pokémon simply knew what he would likely order, or what worked well against each opponent.

He turned on the television and settled into the bed. Elise cuddled up beside him, hugging against his side with his arm around her. Flipping through the channels, he couldn't resist the urge to tenderly rub her side. Michael remembered Charlotte's words as he set the remote down - Elise wanted to go further, but he would need to be the one to ask. But he wasn't sure if he could actually manage to do it.

He had stopped on a local news channel, then wrapped his other arm around her, placing them both in a close embrace. The news showed footage from a recent confrontation between the Assembly and human-pokémon rights activists. The main focus was a woman in her mid-twenties facing off against the red-garbed militants. Cops tried to force their way between the two, but the crowd was too densely packed to allow them easy access. "You perverts should be locked up for what you do!" one of the members said to her. "It's just disgusting - you're lucky that it's illegal to burn y'all alive!" Perhaps he was picking the wrong fight - the recipient of his words stood beside a nidoking. But then again, they all open carried - things could become ugly _very_ quickly…

"What he and I do behind closed doors is none of your business!" the woman yelled, backed by a nod from the poison-type and several others on her side. "I've been with him for seven years - and we haven't hurt anyone, unlike you monsters! Why should you care if we get married?"

"Because," another assembler said, "this is nothing more than a plot from the left to drag this country to hell. Social reform my ass - before you know it, the free market will be destroyed, and we'll join Kalos in owing our entire country to a bunch of damn foreigners!"

"This world would be better if all you freaks jumped off a cliff," the first assembler said. "I hope he poisons you next time you engage in your sickness!" The woman struck out against him, slapping him in the face through his hood. Next thing she knew, she and her nidoking both had several pistols in her face. The assembler that had been slapped looked back at her, his fist clenched. "You little bitch - your nidoking's gonna enjoy watching me open your skull!"

"That's enough!" a cop yelled, finally making his way between the two. "You're both under arrest!"

"What? I did nothing wrong!" the woman replied. "This is freedom of speech, and I—"

"It's also felony rioting - you all have vandalized public property."

"No we didn't - they must have done it! We've been on this street the whole time!"

"Say that to the broken windows a block back. Return your pokémon and get on the ground. You too, and hand over the gun," he said to the member that instigated the fight. Defeated, she did as she was told, and they both were cuffed and hauled off into different police cars. The cops then separated the two sides.

Michael muted the television, irritated that the Assembly was bound and determined to instigate things in Cianwood. "Why do they hate us?" Elise asked sadly. "We've done nothing to them…"

"I know, Elise. I guess some people have nothing better to do than torment others." He stroked her cheek, then slowly moved his hand to the side, tapping her nose. "But you know what? Screw them. They don't know what they're dealing with here. I will _kill_ them if they try to hurt you."

"Thank you…" she sniffed. "Always looking out for me."

"And I always will," he replied, taking her paw into his hand. He stared into her blue eyes, and he could tell that she wanted it. If she wanted this, but was too shy to ask, then he would be the one to ask her. So he finally decided to do just that. "Elise?"

"Y-yes?"

"Do… you want to…" She blushed, but slowly nodded.

"P…please," she said. "I do…"

"I mean… is this what you want? I have no problem with waiting."

"No… I… I do want this," she said shyly.

"Okay." He had some reservations about starting this - though he had slept with the others, they had been the ones to initiate everything. He still wasn't sure about taking the reins with Elise, but he was going to try. Determined to please his glaceon, he lowered his hand towards her hind legs.

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\**

Elise gasped as he gently rubbed the inside of her thigh. She instinctively spread her legs as she released her cute sounds of pleasure, and he gave her a quick kiss on the lips. _Oh Arceus… she sounds so adorable right now._ His hand brushed closer, but he stopped inches away. "Just tell me what to do," he said. This was all about her, and he wanted to please her however she wanted.

"Ahhh… could you…" She never finished - still too shy to ask. _Ah, looks like I need to ease her into this…_

"Would you like me to use my mouth?" Michael asked. Her cheeks reddened, but she briskly nodded. With her confirmation, he finally caught a good look at her tight little vulva. He couldn't take his eyes off of it; her blue lips and thin slit stared back at him, just begging for stimulation. One thing was for certain - it was going to be a very tight fit. He had his doubts about it even fitting at all. Oral would be a good way to prepare for intercourse, provided she wanted to go that far. Making eye contact with Elise, and receiving a nod of conformation, he brought a hand to her snatch.

"Ohhh…" He cupped her sex, lightly petting her mound while rubbing her small rear. _I hope she doesn't stop making those sounds_ , he thought as he continued. Michael brought each hand to her folds, then gingerly spread them to reveal the pink flesh between. Her breaths became short and rapid as he drew closer, but stopped, looking up at her.

"Elise, I want you to know that I'll only go as far as you want to, okay? If you don't want me to do this, then—"

"N-no," she said, "I do… I'm just nervous." He nodded in understanding, and gave her a reassuring smile.

"I get it. Tell ya what, I'll start out slow, and you tell me if you want me to speed up. Sound good?"

"Yes… that sounds good." With her being more comfortable with the situation, he focused back on the task at hand. Michael's tongue contacted her opening, and she released a pleasure-filled squeal. Her little sex was definitely colder than any of the others', but wasn't nearly as cold as he would've thought. Or at least, for an ice-type. It tasted sweet - quite fitting for the glaceon.

He licked over the length of her slit ever-so-slowly, then drew back to start again, giving light kisses as he ate her out. Seeing a look of pure bliss on her face, he knew he was doing something right. He gradually delved deeper into her, wanting to make her enjoyment last as long as possible, eventually protruding into her small cavern.

"Ahhhh!" she moaned, arching her back. The cool, sweetness of her depths filled his mouth, and Michael couldn't get enough of her flavor. "Y-you can g-go… faster…" He obliged her, lapping at her folds faster and with more force, eating her out with increased determination. Her tail starting waving back and forward uncontrollably, sweeping against his chest. By the way she was shaking, he knew that he would soon be flooded with much more of her tasty juices. "M-Michael… it feels like…" He quickly looked up at her.

"Let it all out, sweet girl," he said, rubbing her rear. He renewed his efforts on orally assaulting her tiny pussy, held in place by her unintentionally clamping her legs around him. He ran his hands up her sides, resting them on her cheeks and cupping her face. Her tongue was lolled out, and he could feel her rapid breaths on his hand. All he wanted was to keep the glaceon beneath him on cloud nine. However, he could feel by the way her opening was pulsing around his tongue that she had about hit her limit.

"Michaaaael!" she cried out. Her climax gushed out onto his chin, splashing him with her cool fluids. "Ahhh…. ahhh…" she panted, her eyes watering from her intense first orgasm. Michael ended his oral session on her and lay beside her.

"What did you think?" he asked, placing his hand on her chest. Her heart was pounding as though she had just run a marathon.

"That was… wonderful," she panted, releasing a sigh of content, before turning to face him. "Thank you so much," she said with a timid smile.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." He pulled her to his chest, where they embraced one another tightly. "I know I sure did." She leaned in closely to his ear, before asking something that he didn't see coming.

"Does this mean… that our night isn't over?" He smiled upon hearing this, and turned her gently to face him.

"This night is over when _you_ say it's over," Michael replied, claiming her lips. She didn't resist, and the two of them engaged in oral dance, chasing each others tongues. He clasped her to him, massaging her lower back as he let her explore his mouth. No matter how many times the glaceon and he did this, Michael never got tired of feeling her tongue on his. By the time they parted, a thin strand of saliva connected their mouths.

"Michael…" she gasped, looking into his eyes. "I want you to… to mate me." _Huh, looks like someone's gotten a little bolder._

"You do?"

"Yes," she nodded. "What that mightyena tried to take… I want you to have it." He gave her a quick peck on the lips.

"Elise, I do want you to know that we don't _have_ to do this - we can wait as long as you want." He didn't want her to feel pushed towards intercourse if she wasn't ready; he just wanted her to not feel too shy to ask.

"I do want this… just please… take it slow, okay?" He nodded, then unwrapped himself from her. He stood up and unbuttoned his shirt and pants, removing them both and leaving him in his briefs. She blushed furiously as he discarded his final piece of clothing and revealed his erected member. "Oh my… is it going to fit?" she asked, voicing the question that he had been asking himself.

"It will… I'm sure it will…" Truth be told, he wasn't so sure. But they sure as hell could try. He took his spot over her, bringing their faces inches apart. She spread her legs as wide as she could, granting him perfect access to her virgin flower. Slipping his hand under her back, Michael brought their chests together, and smashed his lips with hers. As he passionately kissed his glaceon, he used his other hand to guide his member to her wet, waiting entrance. Elise moaned into his mouth as he slowly grinded his manhood between her folds, eventually stopping with his tip prodding her small cavern. He pulled away from their lip-lock, then leaned in close to her ear. "Are you ready?" he whispered.

"Y-yes," she said quietly, "I am. Please… please be gentle…"

"I will. And please, Elise, tell me if you want to stop this any time. Not gonna lie, it'll hurt for a little bit."

"I know," she whimpered. "I'm scared… but it's you… so I don't have to be. So go ahead." With that, he took her paw into his free hand.

"Alright. Just keep your pretty eyes on me." He softly kissed her, keeping his face pressed to hers while he slowly pushed forward. She gasped into his mouth as the head of his member forced her tight, tiny pussy to spread. _S-shit she's tight…_ The glaceon's hungry sex contracted around him, making the journey inside more difficult. But with the juices from her recent orgasm still present, he could manage to fit the rest of the head inside.

"Ahhh… M-Michael…" Her vagina was stretched to its very limits with his head buried inside. With her walls clamped around him, he gradually added more of himself to her, squeezing her paw. Elise released her frosty breath onto his cheek, tears welling up in her deep, blue eyes as he contacted her virgin barrier. He waited for her final confirmation before going any further; penetrating her hymen would surely hurt Elise more than it had the others. After all, her sex was significantly smaller than theirs'. "Go on…" she shyly said, giving his cheek a quick lick.

"I love you Elise," he said, claiming her lips. She tightened her legs around him, and he gently prodded the barrier, causing her to whimper. Michael gripped her paw firmly but not painfully, then pushed through her hymen as gingerly as he could.

She yipped loudly, tears spilling down each side of her face. She whimpered, crying as he remained still inside her. He still had about three inches to go, but he refused to go any further.

"I've gotcha," he whispered. "I'm right here." Michael rubbed her back as she buried her head into the crook of his neck; he felt her mouth quivering as she sobbed.

"I-it hurts," she whined. "It hurts so bad…" Hearing her cries of pain hurt him, but the discomfort, though temporary, was inevitable for this.

"I know sweetie." They remained still for several minutes. Michael did everything he could to comfort the glaceon, but each tear he wiped away seemed to be replaced by another. His sweet Elise was hurt, and he was the culprit. Having done this four times now, though, he knew that what would come soon after would be worth it. "You just take your time."

Her sobs died down, becoming light whimpers into his neck as she adjusted to the intruder in her depths. Michael decided to try and take her mind off of any remnants of pain, and tilted her chin up, softly claiming her lips. He tenderly nibbled her lower lip, enticing her to further intensify their kiss. She obliged by pressing forward, and he let her explore his mouth with her tongue, eventually coming to rest under his own before she pulled back and gave a small smile.

"It… it doesn't... hurt as much now," she said. Michael shifted his position to allow him better access to her neck, unintentionally moving his member slightly. She gasped from the friction from his manhood on her tightened walls, instinctively grinding against him as she shivered from the stimulation. "Could you maybe... move a little?" she asked.

"Sure thing," he said, giving her neck a deep kiss. He wrapped one arm around her lower back in order to keep her stable, while taking her paw once more with the other. He slowly pulled out, resulting in a drawn-out sigh from Elise as he removed all but the head, then sunk his manhood back in to its previous depth.

"Ohhh…" she moaned, basking in pleasure as her trainer made love to her. Michael set a slow, rhythmic pace - slow and deep. He wouldn't hilt into her - not yet - as he still didn't know if she could take the last few inches. With each movement, he was delighted to hear her sweet, melodious moans, and strove to do whatever he could to keep her singing.

"I want you to know," he said while fervently kissing her neck, "that you are the most adorable thing in the whole world." He smashed their lips together, and they passionately took each other's breath away. Elise wrapped her paws around his neck, and he returned suit around her waist.

"Michael… you're holding back…" She apparently had realized that his hips had not contacted hers throughout their slow, deep thrusts.

"…Yes," he admitted. "I only want to go as far as you do." She whispered something unintelligible. "What did you say, pretty girl?"

"I want all of you," she said in an endearing, yet quiet, manner.

"…Okay…" He withdrew again, before thrusting back inside of her. He reached his previous point, then slowly added the rest, hilting into her and eliciting a yip from her. "A-are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

"I've never… been better," she replied. "Oh… you're so deep inside me…" The ice-type had taken every single inch, much to his disbelief. She fit like a glove, and Michael knew that, when he came, he would fill her to the very brim.

When they had both adjusted to their newfound depths, Michael began moving once again, this time at a slightly faster pace. With each pump inside of her tight confines, he felt himself being brought closer to the brink of orgasm. "Please… go faster," she said, licking his lips as he hilted into her with strength and vigor.

"No problem," he said, darting his own tongue out to contact hers. He slammed into her rapidly, losing track of time as he lovingly stared into her sapphire eyes, savoring the lewd sounds of their nether regions slapping together. She yowled in ecstasy as he pounded her little, wet sex, signaling her approaching climax.

"I-I'm about to—."

"Me too," he grunted. The tightening in his loins made it clear that he was about to shoot his seed into her. "I'm… so close…" She started matching him, humping back against him in time with his thrusts. She was the first to go; with a final cry of his name, she clamped around his hilted member, milking it for all its essence as she released her ejaculate with cascading force.

As he claimed her neck, Michael reached his own peak. Unable to withhold his seed any longer, he shot it inside of her small womb, making the glaceon his. String after string was released as they held each other in place, wrapping one another in a tight embrace to ensure that they rode out their climaxes.

"E-Elise," he stammered, "you… you are so beautiful." She wasted no time in bringing their lips together, connecting them at every possible point. He remained wrapped around her, feeling their combined fluids steadily flowing out of her now-used orifice. As he assaulted her mouth, he realized that she was responding with less and less energy. Drawing back, he saw that her eyes were lidded; she was falling asleep, murmuring something that he couldn't make out with a happy grin plastered on her face. "Go ahead," he said, kissing her cheek. "Go ahead and sleep, princess." She burrowed into his neck, and he rolled over to a more comfortable position. Staying still, he watched as she quickly fell asleep, smiling from the contented, quiet snores that she released. The smile never left her face.

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\**

The arena was now a completely different atmosphere. They were in the quarter finals, and it seemed as though everyone within a few miles of the stadium had attended. It wasn't quite full, but it was well over the halfway point.

This battle hadn't taken the pace that the others had. With an unfortunate stumble on Layla's part, and a critical hit on the opposing scizor's, the lucario was down for the count. Michael was shocked that they had received their first faint, albeit due to misfortune. But they weren't going to let that get in their way of winning the battle. And they certainly weren't going to lose in front of the forty thousand spectators in the audience…

"Alright," he muttered to himself while taking out Charlotte's ball. "Let's see how you like this." He pushed the central button, releasing the fiery vixen onto the field. "Char, use flamethrower - and don't hold back!" Maybe he was angry that they had botched up previously - surely Layla would be pissed… when she regained consciousness.

The scizor was far from fast enough to avoid the attack, and his eyes went wide as the flames encompassed her. Through the orange inferno, Michael could see him fall to her knees, then on his side. "That's enough," he said. Charlotte immediately halted her attack, looking at the still bug-type before he was returned.

"You did great out there," Nora said. She pulled a blue, netted pokéball out of her pocket. "Take her out, Maddie!" The trainer released her third and final pokémon. _Ah, that's just great…_ A masquerain hovered in place before Charlotte, ready to try her luck against the fire-type. Michael knew that he had to tread lightly with this one - it likely had a water move or two in its arsenal. But even if it were to defeat Charlotte, the masquerain would then have to outlast his flygon.

"Char, use psybeam!"

"Aqua jet!" Before the braixen's attack could reach her, the masquerain sped forward, bringing a cascading current of water with her.

"Shit - dodge it!" Charlotte abandoned her attack altogether, jumping to the side hurriedly. She managed to avoid the blunt of the attack, but her side was struck with the fierce current, making her wince. She was flung to the ground, but rolled aside to get back on her feet. Michael noticed how she held on to her aching side, and how the masquerain never stayed in one place for long, and knew that this last opponent wasn't going to allow them a quick, easy victory.

"It looks like Nora isn't going to make this easy for Higgs," Mary said. _No shit. That thing's not giving us any clear shots, and she hits pretty hard._ He thought over any sort of strategy to shut the battle down quickly, finding difficulty in formulating a plan that could allow them to take her out from a distance.

"Try using a heat wave!"

"Fly over it and use air slash!" Nora shouted. Charlotte created an arch of flames with a sweeping wave, but Maddie simply flew over it and launched her own attack. Thankfully, Charlotte was able to block the attack with a slice of her stick, but the fact remained that, as long as they were distant from one another, the braixen simply wasn't going to land an attack. But then it hit him - why not capitalize upon shock wave once again? The attack couldn't miss, after all.

"Alright, change of plans!" he shouted. "Shock wave!" She thrust both paws forward, launching the bright blue static at the bug-type.

"Use protect!" Maddie formed a protective barrier in front of her, deflecting the electricity to each side. _Dammit! That fucking bug is determined to screw this over for us… unless… If we can get a shock wave on the masquerain when she uses aqua jet, then she'll be done for._ All that he had to do was stall until they attempted the attack again.

"Okay, Char, use flamethrower!" She thrust her stick forward, taking aim at her opponent and releasing a scorching flame.

"Dodge and use aqua jet again!" _Yes, you do just that…_ The masquerain avoided the incoming fire without much of a problem, speeding like a missile towards the fire-type.

"Now Char - use shock wave!" By the time Nora and Maddie had realized what was about to happen, it was too late. Electricity zipped through the water surrounding her, magnifying the shock sent straight into her body. Maddie released a shrill screech as the current crackled through her.

"Wow, quick thinking on Higgs's part," Scott announced. "It looks like the end of the line for the masquerain." Surely enough, the bug-type had stiffened up, falling to the ground with an ungraceful thud. She remained still as the electricity died out, seeping into the ground. Danielle wasted no time in recalling her fainted pokémon.

"Well, that wraps up the quarter-finals," Mary said. "Higgs will be moving on the semis next Thursday. Stay tuned for Will's battle with Jason Corinth at 3:00." Charlotte made her way back to him, giving him a high-five as they left the scene.

 **…..**

Layla was downcast for the rest of the day, hardly speaking and preferring, surprisingly to them, to be in her ball. _She's taking this pretty hard,_ Michael thought. _I'll need to talk with her later…_ That is, if he could get her to talk. He knew it was just because of her wounded dignity; after all, her species took great pride in their fighting abilities. And how could she teach her trainer how to fight when she herself was prone to silly mistakes? She had essentially delivered herself to the scizor, presenting him with an opening that he exploited, knocking her out.

 _She needs to accept,_ he concluded, _that everyone makes mistakes._ Hell, he'd almost gotten himself killed on several occasions in his first tour alone; had it not been for Mewtwo, or the medics, or Alaina, he would be underground in a coffin.

As they ate dinner, going to a steakhouse of Zeke's choice, Layla merely picked at her food, eventually setting her fork down altogether. Veronica waited a moment before speaking up. "Are you gonna eat your steak?" she asked. Layla simply pushed the plate across the table, giving it to the flygon before setting her head down.

"Layla… quit being so hard on yourself. It was just a little stumble…" She lazily looked up at him, shaking her head.

"We are nearing the finals… and I almost blew it…"

"Layla, you tripped. And you seem to be forgetting that you took out that scolipede _and_ nearly knocked the scizor out. We definitely had a comfortable lead."

"But what if we hadn't? I should have easily been able to take down that scizor… but I freaking tripped…"

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Zeke stated. "You seem to be forgetting that everyone makes mistakes."

"That's right," Michael followed. "I mean _damn_ , if it weren't for others, I would've gotten myself _killed_ on the battlefield - on several occasions. Thing is, everybody screws up from time to time - what really matters is whether you get back up or not." She stared at him intently, before looking down.

"I… I know," she admitted. "I'm just… not used to getting knocked out…"

"Layla, it was an accident - I'd hardly say that counts." He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into a tender embrace, mindful of their surroundings. "Look, shit happens. Really. Please let it go, okay?" She returned the hug, giving him a discrete peck on the cheek.

"Alright," she finally said. "But that's the last time I'm screwing up like that."

"There ya go."

 **…..**

Michael intently watched the film of Leo's battles, looking over the moves that the previous champion had been using. He had a tendency to start out, when possible, with either the garchomp or the tyranitar. Keeping that in mind, he began matching the strengths and weaknesses of his girls to the potential opponents. However, there was one thing that bothered him - nobody knew what his other two pokémon were. That made it all the harder to prepare for a possible battle with the trainer. Since he had six pokémon, whereas Michael had five, Leo would have to exclude one; for all he knew, it could very well be one of the ones he was looking at now.

But on the other hand, Leo was, in a way, facing the exact same problem. Nobody knew about Alaina. Granted, he strongly hoped that the battle would steer away from requiring her, but anything could happen. _Maybe… maybe I shouldn't use her at all…_ After all, his girls had a record of taking two or three out before they were done - even during these later rounds. But Leo… he was likely a different case altogether. Nearly all the bets were on him; he had never lost a match at the tournament - hell, it wasn't exactly known if he had lost a match at all. Ever since he had begun participating, he had won the Solstice Battle comfortably. _But Alaina volunteered to do this… If the time comes, I'll let her make the decision._

He felt that it would only be fair to allow her to make the choice, but no matter what, it came with some sort of drawback. She could either remain hidden, still a secret to the world, or reveal herself, which could come with a series of other issues. True, he hated how she had remained on the sidelines - during their _vacation_ , of all times - but what if she strolled around causally like them? Onlookers would surely swarm them - it wasn't exactly common to see a legendary. No matter what they did, they would be trading one problem for another.

His phone vibrated, snapping him out of his thoughts. _Huh, Thomas again…_ He opened the text, reading it to himself.

 _Hey, sorry to bother you again about this, but I can't seem to put the matter to rest. Ivy is a sweetheart - she really is. But I just can't see myself with a pokémon._

 _Huh, still wrestling with the idea, aren_ _'t you?_ Michael carefully considered his response. After all, with such a sensitive subject, he could really strike a nerve. Thomas needed advice, not scathing criticism or irrational acceptance.

 _Maybe that's just it - don't look at her as a pokémon. Just imagine that she's a human girl, if that helps. I do want you to know, though, that I'm not trying to push you one way or another. If you are interested in pokémon, then good for you. If you want to stick with humans, then that's also fine. All I'm saying is don't let her appearance deter you if you love her for who she is._

Michael decided to send the message, hoping that his comrade and friend would take his words to heart. Aside from attacks and appearance, there were truly no differences between humans and pokémon. Both were equally competent, able to feel the same complex emotions, and it was only just to fully allow relationships between the two. Michael hoped one day, maybe one day, that his conservative friends would accept this. But only time would tell.

 _Alright, I'll give it a shot. I'll tell you what happens._

 _Gotcha. Take care, Thomas._

With their conversation ended, Michael returned his attention to studying their competition. "Could you hurry up?" Ver asked impatiently. "You've been on that thing for over an hour…" Michael checked the time. She wasn't wrong.

"Sorry girl; I've been watching the other three's battles. I want to be ready for tomorrow, and for whoever we might face in the Solstice Match." She rolled her eyes at his response.

"Ah, just give it a break. What's gonna happen is gonna happen - and that'll be a win for us. But for now…" She grabbed his laptop, shut it, then tossed it onto the other bed. "…I'd rather be the focus of your attention." Wasting no time in pinning him down, the flygon began pulling his shirt off. Michael helped her in her task of disrobing him, lest his clothes get shredded to pieces. Ver, much like the others, provided for a very enjoyable time in the bed. But with the powerful flygon's sex came a tradeoff - he would be dominated and sore the next morning.

Michael went stiff as she began bobbing her head upon his flaccid member, making it go erect within the minute. It only took her a split second to straddle him with her heavy body and impale herself on his manhood. She began her rough, fast pace; but unbeknownst to her, Michael was plotting just how he would repay her possessive treatment towards him.

 **…..**

"Here we are at the semi-finals," Scott stated. "We have witnessed these two phenomenal trainers - both newcomers to the tournament - climb their way to the top. But unfortunately, tonight will be the end of the line for one of them." The stadium was just about packed, with bright lights beaming on the two trainers.

"Sadly so. Both of them have worked very hard for this, and I'm sure we won't be disappointed with the battle," Mary followed. The announcers' words barely registered to Michael. Rather, he was focusing on the features of his opponent.

Neil Grimes surely had experience over him. The brown hair on his beard and head gave way to equal amounts of gray, suggesting his age to be in his late forties, maybe early fifties. He may have been in the game longer, but that didn't deter Michael in the slightest. After all, he and the girls had managed to defeat several veterans throughout their campaign. This one wouldn't be much different, hopefully.

Michael started the battle by throwing out Elise; he had looked into his opponent's battles and had found that Neil's team consisted of a venusaur, weavile, electivire, and a rhydon. He had been selected to send his pokémon out first, and so he chose the one that would give Neil the most trouble in type matchup. Neil responded in kind, sending out the rhydon first. _Alright, that could work for or against him…_ Her rock typing was definitely favorable against Elise, but her ground typing and her slow speed were both going to make things equally challenging on their part.

"Rhydon, use stone edge," Neil stated.

"Ice shard!" Elise launched the pointed crystals before Rhydon had the chance to release her own attack. They impacted her mid-frame, sending her hastily flung stones astray. The icicles didn't do much damage, due to the think armor plating of the rhydon, but it was enough to be bothersome. "Good, now set up with a barrier!" Elise wasted no time in forming the protective screen, better preparing herself for incoming physical attacks.

"Use rock blast!" Rhydon stomped the ground with a resounding thud, causing several small rocks to rise, before sending them towards the glaceon with a sweep of her arm. Michael carefully watched the projectiles as they flew towards Elise, looking for an opening.

"Dodge to the right!" Elise gracefully leaped to the side, avoiding most of the stones sent straight at her. One managed to strike her before landing, but she didn't seem to have been affected much. "Elise, hit her with an ice beam!"

"Flamethrower," Neil simply responded. _Oh…shit…_ Rhydon released a jet of flame from her gaping maw, immediately turning Elise's attack into mist. "Good, now put another one right on her."

"Elise, keep moving - don't let her hit you!" She had increased her defense against physical moves, but an attack like flamethrower would still do a number on the ice-type. Due to her speed advantage over the rhydon, Elise managed to keep a yard or two ahead of the torrents of flame. But without any time to attack, and with their opponent's move, landing a hit was going to be difficult. _Well… she can't keep up that attack forever…_ As he thought, the flamethrower died down, albeit slowly, leaving a panting rhydon.

"Alright, that's enough. Finish her off with drill horn." Michael thought quick; if that attack landed, Elise would surely be down for the count. But keeping her slow speed in consideration, he formed a plan to take out the rhydon.

"Elise, aim an ice beam at her legs!" The glaceon shot the frigid beam at the opponent's legs, coating the rhydon's feet in mid-dash. Before she could get much closer, a layer of ice had frozen both legs together, causing her to harshly impact the ground. "One more time," Michael said. There was no way the rock-type was making a comeback from that fall, and Elise's next attack made sure of it.

"Just like that, Grimes is one pokémon down," Mary stated. "Higgs sure isn't going to make this easy for him." Neil recalled Rhydon, deciding to match Elise's typing in his next choice. _Alright, there's the weavile…_ He could easily run circles around Elise, but defense wasn't exactly something weaviles were known for. A few strong hits and he would be down, despite his ice typing. Problem was, Elise only had ice moves, alongside shadow ball - nothing effective.

"Night slash," Neil ordered. With his claws enshrouded in black, he dashed towards Elise.

"Elise, use frost breath!" The glaceon exhaled a cold, misty breath, making the approaching weavile flinch, but not enough to prevent his attack. Weavile's strike found its mark; after all, there was no chance that Elise could avoid him. He was simply too fast. The strike found its mark on her side, and she yipped out in shock. She cast Michael a nervous glance. The strike hadn't caused as much harm as it had startled her, but it was clear that the weavile would be troublesome.

"Follow it up with shadow claw!"

"Ice shard!" Weavile tried to leap over the icy spears, but to no avail. He was struck all over, and diverted his attention to guarding his face rather than landing the next attack. "Don't let up - keep 'em coming!"

"Block and use brick break." Weavile shielded his eyes, closing in on her once again with an irritated snarl. Elise increased the intensity of her attack as he drew near. Drawing his hand back, he delivered a swift, blind chop. She attempted to dodge, but it contacted her front leg. She shrieked in pain, almost collapsing upon landing. Barely able to stand on the appendage, Michael knew they needed to either shut this down now or recall her.

"Elise, use blizzard - go all out." She nodded faintly, then inhaled deeply.

"Ah, shit - Weavile, get outta there!" Elise released the powerful flurry, hitting the weavile as he attempted to flee. She held the icy torrent on him, completely concealing him under the stinging snow. "Hold it…"

"Looks like the weavile is in trouble," Mary said.

"That blizzard looks vicious," Scott added. "I don't think he'll be walking away from that attack." Neil looked irritated with the predicament.

"Weavile, don't you dare cave in! You're better than that!" Elise continued until she ran out of breath, and eventually the flurry died down. Weavile lay on the ground motionless, having been unable to withstand the attack's intensity.

"And Neil now has two left. The situation isn't looking too optimistic for him and the remainder of his team," Scott announced.

Up next was the electivire, as Michael suspected. Neil was saving the venusaur for when Elise wouldn't be on the field, lest it fall victim to one of her ice-type attacks. Though, Michael wasn't planning on anything of the sort.

"Elise, I'm going to recall you." She briskly nodded, bending her paw to keep her weight off of it. He could tell by the looks of it that she wasn't seriously hurt, but he sure as hell wouldn't make her battle in such discomfort. He removed the glaceon from the battle, replacing her with Veronica. Because he had withdrawn Elise, he was unable to use her anymore; thus, he only had three left that he could use. Neil grimaced in irritation. Ver's typing would severely limit the electivire's moveset, and would most likely take him out. He knew that the battle had been going downhill, but this matchup probably just sealed the deal.

"Alright Ver, start with a bulldoze!" She quickly glided towards the opponent, ready to drive him into the dirt.

"Dodge it and use ice punch!" _Ah, that's just great…_

"Pull back!" Veronica fanned out her wings, curving her path upwards to avoid the icy strike before it could hit her chest.

"Don't let her get away - focus blast!" Electivire thrust both hands forward, shooting an orange blast at the dragoness, which collided with her tail. She growled out in irritation, grabbing it as she landed. "Now use quick attack!" In a flash, he charged her.

"Return!" Veronica's lips curled into a smile. She hauled her fist back, then released a powerful right hook, smashing into the electric-type's face and sending him sprawling. The audience sounded out in simultaneous eruption, and it was obvious that Electivire would not be able to take another hit like that.

"Ohhh, that was a brutal shot on the electivire," Mary stated. "He'd better get himself together quickly."

"Don't let him up! Use earth power!"

"Electivire! Dodge it!" He shakily sprung to his feet, but before he could leap to safety, the ground beneath him shot up. The next sound was that of him hitting the ground once again, rolling onto his side.

"Attagirl, Ver," Michael said, stifling a laugh. She gave a short nod in response, ready for the final opponent.

"The score is now three to one in favor of Higgs. To tell you the truth, Mary, I think Grimes is gonna need a miracle to pull this off," _Damn right he'd need a miracle._ Despite his improbability of victory, Neil threw out his last pokémon, and by the looks of it, his strongest. The venusaur was a powerful threat; that much he had seen from watching Neil's battle films.

"Venusaur, use power whip!" Several vines shot out of the plant on the grass-type's back, whirling dangerously near Veronica. Vines sliced through the air around Veronica, making the flygon duck to try to avoid them. One cut downwards mid-flight, aiming for her side.

"Block it Ver!" She raised her arm to prevent the vine from striking her, but was surprised to feel it wrap around her forearm.

"Good, now use giga drain!" The vine began to radiate yellow; Ver writhed in pain as energy was forcibly drained from her. She yanked her arm, but to no avail; it seemed as though every movement she made only further strengthened her opponent.

"Use dragon claw on the vine!" Michael yelled, hoping that she could escape her current situation. With an irritated snort, she responded with a quick slice of her claws, cutting deeply into the vine. The venusaur wasted no time in jerking the appendage back, which was now discharging a dark green liquid.

"Sleep powder!" From the large plant on its back, Venusaur released thousands of small, yellow spores over the entire field.

"Don't breathe it in!" Michael warned. The flygon craned her neck downwards, covering her face with her wings. The spores fell all over her, but she was not put to sleep. She was, however, left vulnerable - a fact that their opponents were ready to capitalize upon.

"Venusaur, use sludge bomb!" Michael was irritated with their situation; he didn't like being forced to play defensively. The violet sludge was hurled towards the dragon, who was just now unfurling her wings from her face.

"Fly!" Veronica thrust herself into the air, barely leaping over the incoming poisonous liquid in time. Venusaur tried again, this time hurling the toxic sludge higher. Ver spiraled to the side, effectively dodging the attack once more. "Ver, finish this off with a flamethrower!" By the looks of it, she was ready to end this as well. The radiating heat jumped from her maw, making its way towards the fearful grass-type.

"Hit her with a skull bash!" With no way to avoid the flames, Venusaur bounded through them, smashing his head into Veronica's stomach. Ver was sent to the ground and clutched her midsection.

"That was a very bold move on Grimes's part," Scott said.

"I'd say - he managed to break through the flygon's offense," Mary followed.

"But it definitely came at a cost," Scott continued. "Looks like the venusaur received a little bit of a burn there." Sure enough, Venusaur's skin was singed in several places, and the plant on his back had received damage to its petals. Ver touched the ground, apparently too sore to maintain her aerial advantage.

"Energy ball!" Neil ordered. Venusaur formed the green orb in front of him, sending it towards the flygon at blazing speeds. There was hardly any avoiding it, and Veronica was struck with the attack. Her legs wobbled as the attack settled, but the fire was still visible in her eyes.

"Things are starting to look bleak for Higgs's flygon," Mary announced. _Bitch, please - Ver's just getting warmed up._

"Use dragon breath Ver!" As soon as the words had left his mouth, a blue cloud was forced out of Ver's own, clouding over the venusaur. He managed to escape the draconic fumes by bounding forth, but his exhaustion was becoming very apparent.

"Venusaur… try another skull bash!" _Ah, starting to run outta ideas, aren't we?_ Michael waited for the grass-type to draw closer, knowing that Neil could very well be delivering the battle to him. But if Michael timed this wrong, then Ver could be knocked out. _Wait…_ Venusaur was ten yards away, only a second to go till he reached Ver. _Not yet…_ With a strong thrust, he leaped towards her, his head lowered and ready to ram into her.

"To the side - use fire punch!" Despite her size, she managed to spin aside rather gracefully. What happened next, though, was not graceful, but brutal. Her fist, enshrouded in flame, was violently thrust into his side as he passed by in midair. He initially didn't seem to budge, but upon landing, the effects of the attack were known. He didn't land on his feet, but rather slid upon impact, sending clouds of dust into the air as he drew close to Michael.

The crowd now knew, and the spectators had no room for doubt. The referee came onto the field and confirmed the obvious. They were now looking at one of the two finalists.

 **…..**

It was only a short half hour later until the next battle began - Leo and Will. That was a fight that Michael and the girls weren't going to miss. They took seats in the stands, but had to settle for sitting near the top. Expecting to get good seats this far in to the tournament would have been foolish, after all. _Oh well, at least we've got the screens,_ Michael thought as he bandaged Elise's foot. Nothing that would prevent her from battling next week, but enough to provide her with discomfort for now. Michael finished wrapping her sore paw, giving it a gentle kiss afterwards. "You did great out there," he said to the glaceon on his lap. He couldn't help but tenderly rub the back of her head, trailing down to rest his finger on her nose.

"It… it was nothing," she said, her cheeks becoming red. "I mean… Ver took care of the hard ones…"

"I dunno," Layla said, "you did have a disadvantage against that rhydon, and that weavile was much faster than you."

"O…okay." She nudged her bandage, then stretched out her paw.

"How does it feel?" Alaina asked. "That _was_ a pretty nasty hit you took."

"It stings a little… but I'll be fine. I'm more concerned about Ver - she took several hits." She looked around for the flygon, but could not seem to find her. "Say, where is she?"

"Concession stand," Michael simply stated. He had handed Ver his debit card and told her to have at it. After all, her performance did secure the win for them. Once she had made her way back to them, he found that she took his words to heart.

Minutes passed by as Scott and Mary continued talking about the two upcoming participants, playing clips of their previous battles. After seeing just what Leo and his team were capable of, he was admittedly intimidated. But then again, another face-off against the Elite Four member that had totally destroyed their chances of battling the champion didn't seem much better. If Michael could choose, though, he would opt for the latter of the two. At least with Will, Michael had a pretty consistent matchup; with only psychic types, Will had left himself open several common weaknesses. That, and they sure as hell had a score to settle with him…

They all fell silent upon hearing Scott's next words. "And here they are - the two you have all been waiting for!" Leo walked out onto the battlefield, smiling and waving to the audience as he took his place. He was surely confident, if not cocky - an attribute that personally irritated Michael, though Leo definitely possessed the skill to justify his demeanor. By contrast, Will modestly made his appearance on the field.

It wasn't long before the referee signaled the battle's start. Leo, having been selected to release his pokémon first, threw out an ultra ball. His tyranitar materialized, shooting his dark, fierce gaze at the psychic-type user, who responded by casting out his slowbro. _Alright, the type matchup could go either way…_

But that was far from what happened. Michael and the girls watched in awe as the battle progressed, unable to process what they were seeing. The tyranitar tanked the few hits Will's slowbro had managed to land and struck back with a vicious crunch. Moments after he had been sent out, the slowbro had to be retrieved. The following exeggutor was dealt with in a similar manner, then the gardevoir, albeit it at a slower pace. After that, Leo decided to switch out, as the tyranitar was starting to show signs of exhaustion. As soon as he released his garchomp, though, the battle resumed its previous speed.

Maybe it was the full reality of their opponent's skill that caught them off guard. Or, it could have been the possibility that they may not even be on the same level as Leo that struck them. Either way, they watched as the man who had single-handedly stopped them from progressing through the rest of the Elite Four… was completely decimated with only two pokémon.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Alright, that was a relatively long chapter. I wanted to take care of all the tournament battles in one chapter, as I felt that it would be irritating to separate each battle into its own chapter.**

 **Please let me know what you think about the battle scenes; I feel that there is great room for improvement there, but need suggestions and criticism.**

 **That being said, I'll see all of you next chapter!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:**

 **Hey guys! Yes, I am still alive. I sincerely apologize for the longer waiting time - almost two months. I didn't get writer's block or anything; rather, life just kinda got in the way. Hope that the longer chapter will make up for it somewhat. Nearly twenty _thousand_ words are in this chapter, making it the longest yet. But then again, a lot of stuff happens in this chapter, so that is pretty fitting.**

 **I don't own pokémon, or any of the franchises associated with this story. All I own are my characters.**

 **As always, special thanks to Umix3 for reviewing the lemon scenes, and thanks to Lunar Knight Archangel (formerly Archangel2462) for beta reading the chapters. Lastly, I would like to thank each and every one of you for reading this story. Recently, this story reached a hundred followers and 16,000 views. Without you all, this wouldn't have even been remotely possible, so thank you so much.**

 **If you enjoy reading, please consider leaving a review. I always enjoy your all's feedback.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"A life lived in fear is a life half-lived."**

 **-Baz Luhrmann**

* * *

 **Ch. 15 - The Solstice Battle**

Michael stood impatiently in line, ready for the cashier to cease her conversation with the shopper. Right now, mean as it may sound, he did _not_ care about how their days had gone, or how long it had been since they were in high school together. He knew such thoughts sounded kind of arrogant, but she was there to move people along so they could get out of the store, not converse about her personal life with customers. And he didn't have much time to do this.

He had managed to convince the girls to go off for the day after withdrawing some money from the ATM. With only two weeks until Christmas, he still had some shopping to do. For Thomas, John, and Kevin - those who he faced more difficulty shopping for, as he didn't know what they wanted - he got Ᵽ200 prepaid cards. He had taken care of Samuel's and Wesley's at the local gunsmith; for Wesley, he chose a new, custom-engraved grip for his Kimber 1911, and for Samuel he had gotten a small Ruger .380 that he had caught on sale for concealed carry. That was gonna be a hell of a time to ship. Alex had been very easy to shop for - three video games and a new headset.

Finally, the line was able to progress. By the looks of things, he wasn't the only one irritated. He set his things down on the counter, fishing out his wallet. "Hey there, did you find everything alright?" the cashier asked in a friendly tone, as though she had not inconvenienced everyone in her line.

"Yes, I found everything just fine." She rang up his items and took his payment; he wasted no time in leaving. _Alright, I still gotta get something for the girls… and for Zeke. Hell, what would he even want?_ Maybe he could give him a prepaid gift card, much like he had the others. But then again, he was more familiar with the zoroark than he was with those other comrades. _I'll have to think it over_ , he concluded as he walked back, bags in hand.

 **…..**

Michael hid the girls' gifts under the unused bed in his room, fully wrapped and all. It looked as though he had done so just in time, too - he could hear the girls approaching in the hallway. He hurriedly stood up, taking care to look casual as he opened the door. "Hey, how was your all's day?" he asked.

"Great," Charlotte replied, "we went to several places."

"Oh? Such as?"

"Well, we went back out to the market. They've got this neat section that has foods from all over the world… might have bought a few things while we were there," she chuckled. Behind her, he could see Ver approaching with several bags in hand. _Huh, you don't say…_

"That's what I gave you all money for, babe," he laughed. "Did you… uh… see any assemblers?"

"Nope," Layla said. "I think the assholes have left the city now."

"Really? That's a relief," Michael said.

"Yeah," Ver said, "I hope their boats sink."

"Ah, I don't think we could be so lucky. Did you do anything else?" Charlotte nodded, then continued.

"We went to see a movie. Didn't have to pay for Alaina. Invisibility does have some perks, right?"

"You could say that," Alaina replied.

"What did you go see?" Michael asked curiously.

"The Girl with the Dragonair Tattoo. I thought it was pretty good."

"Wait, so you all didn't go for a romance for once?" That was kind of out of character for them.

"Why would we need to when we have the real thing?" Layla asked.

"Good point." Hopefully, this meant that movie night would be a whole lot more fun for all of them.

They went into the room without the gifts, and Michael watched as they sorted through the things they had bought - mainly poképuffs, which Alaina began to organize on top of the desk via telekinesis. Watching her, he realized that there was something that he didn't really know about her - her moveset. Granted, that would be important if she was considering doing any batting.

"Alaina, I just realized that I don't know what moves you know." It came to him as surprising that he didn't know such simple information about a legendary that had been with them for months - one that he had even _slept_ with several times.

"Let's see… I know psychic, dragon pulse, mist ball, recover, surf, and ice beam. I've tried using draco meteor before… but it's been inconsistent…" Michael had to admit that she had a pretty solid moveset. _But if we could get her to fully utilize draco meteor… damn, I don't know what would be able to take a hit like that…_

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he barely realized Charlotte approach him. She had taken a bite out of a poképuff - one with thick, pink cream - and held it out to him.

"These are amazing," she said through a full mouth. "Here, try it." Michael hesitantly stared at the treat, then at her beaming expression, before taking an experimental bite. It only took him a second to hand it back. _Shit… that's way too sweet. How the hell could they like that stuff?_ He made his way to the bathroom and proceeded to rinse his mouth out. "Aww, c'mon - you're being dramatic," she said, hopping onto the counter. He looked up at her, his face now wet.

"I don't understand how anyone could like something that sweet. Arceus, I can't get the taste outta my mouth…"

"Here, let me help with that." The braixen placed her paw to his cheek, drawing him in and pressing her mouth to his. He felt her tongue part his lips, gently forcing entry into his mouth and tracing over his larger oral member. Though he could faintly taste hints of the treat in her breathe, he was greeted with the much better taste of his vixen's essence. She swirled around his tongue before withdrawing, sporting a wide, adorable smirk. "How's that?"

"Much better," he said, stifling a laugh. "Now, I promise, I will be tasting more of you tonight, but we've all got some stuff to talk about for now." Michael hoisted her up over his shoulder and carried her into the living room, where he first noticed Elise laying on her back, nibbling on a poképuff of her own. He sat beside her, setting Charlotte down on his lap. "Alright, so I've run through the possible match-ups that we could run against Leo.."

 **…..**

The sun had all but set beneath the waves, turning the deep waters into a radiant orange. Both Zeke and Michael were reclined on the beach chairs, casually drinking. But whereas Zeke was sipping a martini, Michael was limited to a bottled soda. Apparently Cory wasn't kidding when she said that he'd have trouble finding another bartender that would be willing to serve him. In the horizon, they could see the faint outlines of several large ships approaching Cianwood's main ports.

"You know," Zeke began, "when this is all said and done… I wouldn't mind spending a year or two down here…"

"Huh? Like the place?"

"You could definitely say that," Zeke replied. "I mean, what isn't to like? Great food, _mostly_ friendly people, nice scenery… yeah, I think I could live here for some time. Maybe settle down with a sleek dark type - maybe an absol if I could find one. Oh, or a mightyena."

"Ha, I sure as hell hope not. Ain't too fond of those things." Plus, the idea of the zoroark choosing a quadruped kind of brought him humor, but then again, he wasn't one to talk. "I think I could see you with a weavile." Zeke laid his head back and laughed. "Yeah, but they're damn tricksters from what I've heard."

"So, she'd be a perfect dark type then," Michael jokingly responded.

"Hey…" he tried to look upset, but his wolfish grin quickly dismissed the facade. "…Eh, I've got nothing - you're totally right." Michael shook his head, shifting his view back to the scenery, before continuing with a grin.

"And plus, you look like the kind of guy that would enjoy all that claw stuff. You'd totally be the submissive one in that relationship." The smile on Zeke's face vanished, and the humor seemed to completely drain from his expression. "What is it?" Michael asked confusedly.

"I wouldn't be worrying about him being dominated if I were you," Ver said from behind him. He froze up upon hearing the dragoness only a few feet behind him, unable to comprehend how she had managed to approach them so quietly. "What time did you agree to meet with us?

"Well, 4:30…" He looked at his phone. "Ver, I'm only a few minutes late, geez." Sensing an opportunity to get back at him, Zeke piped up.

"Aww come on, Veronica - don't you think it would be nice to give your little slave a little bit of time off?" Michael blushed, though he doubted either of them could see it in the dusk.

"Can it Zeke," she said threateningly before casting her gaze back towards Michael, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "Come on, up we go." She forcibly pulled him into her, then spread her wings, preparing to take off for their balcony.

"In case you didn't know, I can walk up there by myself just fine," he said, trying to escape her grasp. He was met with a lowly growl, then decided to stop resisting.

"Have fun with the claws," Zeke said as she took off. _Alright, I'm gonna make sure to give him hell for that one…_ In mere seconds, they reached the balcony, to which Ver effortlessly lifted him over the railing before climbing over herself.

"You and that damn zoroark," she muttered. "Alright, come on - off to dinner. The others are waiting."

Throughout dinner, Michael contemplated his course of action. By Ver's tone and the fact that it was her night with, he could tell that he had the same thing in store as the previous three times they had gone at it - complete submission on his part. He loved the flygon with everything in him, but being pounded like a human sex-toy and waking up feeling like he had been hit with a freight train was getting old. It was time that they tried something new, and he'd be damned if he would let her be the one in charge of that. _No… I think it's about time that she takes the receiving end of things…_

An hour later, he found himself removing his clothes in front of the dragoness, ready to enact his plan. "Come on," she huffed, "you're taking too long." Finally, he removed his briefs, standing nude before her. He placed his hand on her shoulder, then traced it up her neck, eventually cupping her cheek. Michael claimed her lips softly, without any hint of control. She reciprocated his action, gradually forcing her way inside and sweetly taking the lead. Withdrawing, he embraced her, placing his cheek to the crook of her neck. He felt her tense up slightly.

"I love you," he said quietly, looking up at her soft expression.

"I love you too, my Michael," she said, giving him a loving, drawn-out lick along his cheek. She then went on to gently rake her claws across his back. "I hope you aren't trying to get out of tonight," she laughed.

"Oh trust me, I had nothing of the sort in mind," he said. Knowing that he likely wouldn't have perfect access like this again if he didn't act now, he claimed her neck, softly biting the tender spot.

"Ahh!" she gasped, her legs almost giving out from the stimulation. _Now I've got you, you crazed flygon._ For the first time since he had taken time off from the service, he utilized his combat skills. He quickly escaped her hold and slipped his arm around her back. Before she could react, Michael thrust her onto the bed and, pressing down on her shoulders, pinned her down. "Wh-what are you doing?" she asked nervously. In her eyes, he could see the look of fear and uncertainty.

"I've been thinking Ver," he said as he rubbed her neck, "thinking that it's time we try something new."

"What are you… talking about?" She was trying to fight it, but with his positioning, she was at his mercy. And the fact that he was assaulting her neck wasn't helping her.

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about," he whispered. "What's it been four, five times now? Which ever, it's the same thing every time - I get pinned down by you, and you just have at it."

"S-so? You don't seem t-to mind…" Her cheeks were flushed red; she was now getting a taste of her own medicine.

"Oh Ver, that's just it - I _do_ mind. Yeah, it feels good and all, and I love you with everything in me, but I can hardly walk the morning after. And you know what?" He rubbed her neck, massaging her as he kept her pinned down. "I think that part of you… wants to be submissive."

"Don't be ridiculous," she growled.

"Oh trust me, I'm not." She turned to look at him the best she could.

"Well then how on earth would you get an idea like that?" He leaned in closely to her face, making her blush grow more prominent.

"Because I know my sexy dragoness _very_ well. You're too proud to give in to what you want - to be dominated by your trainer. Isn't that right?" She looked at him like a deer in the headlights.

"I…"

"Yeah, that's what I thought." He let off of her neck, instead rubbing along the length of her wings. "In fact, I'm willing to bet that you could have turned the tables on me all this time. You totally could have overpowered me, right Ver?" She didn't respond. He released his hold on her, but she didn't move; whether out of shock or embarrassment he couldn't tell. He moved up to her side, inches away from her flustered face. "Well, no matter." He pecked her on the lips, then hugged her neck. "I'm taking over this round - I'll make it worth your while." A faint nod was his only response, but the message was received. He got back up, then walked around to the end of the bed.

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\**

"Wow Ver, you really seem ready for me…" Her slit was leaking profusely, leaving a small trail of her juices dripping down her underside. Placing his hands on her hips, he went straight for the source, licking from the very front of her slip upwards. Ver tried to withhold her gasps, going as far as to bury her face into a pillow as he tasted her crevasse. _That won't help you for long,_ he thought, before doubling his efforts on her sex. He delved into her as deeply as he possibly could, going all out for her first ever round of oral, drenching his face from the copious amounts of fluids being released.

"Mmm…" She failed in concealing her moans of pleasure as she clenched the sheets tightly. He enjoyed seeing her so submissive, loving the fact that the powerful flygon was under his control. He swirled his tongue around inside of her, lapping at her inner walls, coating her cavern with his saliva. With each movement of his tongue, she shook, showing him that he was doing a good job. She instinctively curled her tail over her back, raising her rear end higher and giving him better access to her slit - an advantage he utilized, but only for a few seconds. Without warning, he ceased his treatment. "Wh…why did you stop?" she asked. By the tone in her voice, she was definitely missing the contact.

He didn't respond, but rather trailed a hand down to her flower, tracing over her slit with his index finger. Michael then pressed inward, circling around the rim of her entrance. With a devious smile, he ever-so-slightly penetrated her, prodding at the very exterior of her inner walls before withdrawing altogether. For what likely seemed like an eternity to her, he repeated this process, barely entering her confines, but not far enough to give her the stimulation she desired. Finally, when it seemed as though he would never give her what she wanted, he sunk two fingers in all the way to the knuckles. "Ahhh!" she shouted. He pumped furiously into her vagina, immediately going full-force. Her walls clamped down on his digits, trying to keep him inside of her warm tunnel. She was unable to remain silent, vocalizing her enjoyment in her cries.

"Does this feel good Ver?" he asked calmly. Though he knew fully well the answer to that question, he wanted to hear her say it.

"Y-yes!" she cried. "Ohh… You're too good at th-this…" With his other hand, he stroked her thick tail, the end of which was unable to remain still, frantically swinging back and forth.

But she wasn't the only one enjoying this. He was finally in charge of their lovemaking, and after having been semi-ruthlessly pinned down and screwed by her, it felt great. But more than that, he savored the fact that she was enjoying herself - he could tell that much by the squeezing around his fingers mixed in with the moans of pleasure. But he was about to enjoy himself even more. "So, you want me to keep going?" he asked, beginning to slow down.

"Yes!" she quickly nodded. "Don't s-stop… It feels… so good!" she panted heavily. Since the beginning, she had always gotten what she had wanted from Michael in terms of sex, but not being the one in control was completely new to her.

"Then beg me to continue," he said with a grin.

"W-what?" she asked in shock. What had happened to Michael? He was always so relaxed and compliant, always giving her exactly what she wanted. Where had this side of him come from?

"You heard me," he spoke gently. "If you want me to continue, then beg for it. If not, then…" he trailed off, still growing slower in his actions. Even though he threatened to stop, he knew he wouldn't. Seeing her this happy and that she felt so good was enough for him to continue.

"Michael… please don't stop… please…"

"Alright," he replied nicely, as though he had not inconvenienced her in the slightest. Without hesitation, he plunged into her once again, going even faster than before. She released a lewd growl as he fingered her warm vent, bringing her closer to the brink of orgasm. Unable to restrain herself, she began bunking against his digits, rocking the entire bed and making it creak. _Oh, the people downstairs are gonna love this…_ Well, they would have to put up with it; he was going to finish Ver off. And by the looks of things, that wouldn't take long at all. Her sex was becoming tight enough to where it was difficult to move his fingers.

"Mmm… Michael! I'm about t-to…"

"Go right ahead," he replied. His arm was tiring, but he was going to finish what he had started, much to Ver's delight. Within the minute, he felt the tell-tale signs of her climax, and hilted his fingers into her.

"Michael!" she screamed, pulsing around his fingers and spraying his hand with her juices. She came more than she ever had before, riding out her orgasm as Michael rubbed her slit with his thumb, still embedded within her. He knew, looking at her trembling form, that she wouldn't be trying to take control any time soon. "Ahhh… oh Arceus…" she panted heavily, "that was… a-amazing…" She was barely able to speak coherently, clearly basking in pleasure. He remained inside of her until the torrent died down before finally removing his drenched fingers.

"I think it's safe to say you enjoyed yourself," Michael said, walking to the front of the bed. He sat down beside her, rubbing the back of her head.

"Mhm… How did you learn… to do that so well?"

"From the others," he replied. "You would've found out earlier… _if_ you were't so set on brutally riding me." Veronica averted her gaze, but he wouldn't have any of that.

"No no, look at me." He gently grabbed her antennas, making her face him. "Anyways, as I was saying, you really seemed to like my treatment. Don't you think it would only be fair to return the favor?" The proud flygon looked at him, on the very border of her comfort zone. Why wouldn't he just let her do what she usually did? After all, he _did_ get off, just like her. But Michael was persistent and wasn't going to back down. She looked down at his erected member, knowing what he was suggesting, and gave his tip a tentative lick. "There you go Ver…" He sat back against the headboard, ready to enjoy an oral session from the forceful dragoness. One lick turned into another, and before he knew it, she was circling her tongue around the head of his member.

Michael smirked as she went to work, now finally being sensitive for a change, albeit doing so embarrassedly. Ver's tongue felt amazing, covering his member with saliva as her licks trailed up from the base of his shaft. He held on to both of her antennas, caressing them with his thumbs as his flygon began to take his manhood into her maw. She didn't waste time in engulfing the rest of his member, sticking her tongue out and tasting his sack. She began at a slow pace, sucking on it as she pulled back, then going right back to the base. Due to her size, she had no problem taking every single inch - something that Layla couldn't do without discomfort. Veronica bobbed her head, swirling her tongue around his member with each movement; her powerful throat muscles clasped around his cock, providing for a warm, tight feeling on him. Since she could not close her lips, a thin stream of drool escaped her, dampening his crotch. "You're doing great, Ver."

"Mmm…" she mumbled. He cupped her cheeks, tracing his hands down her neck. This was, by far, the best blowjob he had received, and he appreciated Ver all the more for it.

"Ha… looks like my sexy flygon was _born_ to do this," he said. She looked at him in a rather endearing manner, turning him on all the more. Ver withdrew his member from her mouth, replacing it with her hand. Fortunately for Michael, she was very mindful of her claws. Starting to pump his manhood with her hand, she focused her mouth's attention towards his balls. Her copious amounts of saliva coating his dick made for very smooth stroking while she furiously licked her trainer's sack. _Ah… that was… unexpected…_ Not that he was complaining in the slightest…

Ver began to take in his scent, tasting him as she lapped at every inch of his sack; she looked to be in a lust-filled trance as she continued to pleasure her trainer. Michael felt her hand speed up to a rapid pace, knowing that she would soon be tasting his seed. She finished her work on his balls, then went back to his shaft, taking him once more to the very hilt. The way that she sucked him off, squeezing his cock between her thick tongue and the roof of her mouth, brought him within reach of his climax. Deciding to help her out, Michael grabbed her antennas at the base, helping her bob up and down quickly. She looked at him surprisedly, but did nothing to resume control of her own motions. Rather, she gave in and let Michael have his way with her. "There we go Ver," he grunted. "Almost there."

As he screwed her maw with great force, he made sure to maintain eye contact. He chose to savor this moment; the obedient gaze cast his direction made it obvious who was now the alpha. His new sense of control turned him on so much that he felt the familiar tightening in his loins. With a final push, he hilted into her maw once again, releasing his sperm straight down her throat. She moaned, continuing to suck as rope after rope of her trainer's warm seed was shot into her. "Ver… that was great," he panted. "You took… it all." So much so, that she hadn't even let a single drop escape. Ver began to pull back, removing the object of her affection from her mouth, giving it one more amorous lick as she parted from it.

"You… came so much…" she said, still clutching his member between her claws. He slid his hands down her neck, causing her to hum. He would need a minute to recover from his orgasm, but it wouldn't be long before he was ready to continue. After all, he _had_ become used to sex, being that the girls had definitely been increasing his stamina over the past weeks. He slipped his arms under her own, holding her larger figure in a tight embrace as he waited.

Before long, he found himself becoming stiff once again, ready to go for another round. With a kiss to her cheek, he released his hold on her, standing up and heading to the end of the bed. "Are you ready to go again?" he asked.

"Yes," she said without hesitation. Michael thought about how they should progress into intercourse. He could hold her tail up and take her from behind; he sure as hell would like to pound the dragoness in a doggy-style fashion. But stronger than his need to get off was his desire to watch the flygon's face as he dominated her. That being said, a missionary would do well, allowing for him to see every single one of her expressions. He touched her slit, making her shiver in delight as he soaked his hand with her fluids. He then grabbed his member, coating it with her juices in order to prepare him for her waiting vent. "Ver, get on your back please." She obeyed him without hesitation; after all, why should she question him at the moment? This session had been the best one yet for the both of them, and she was likely up for whatever he had in mind.

Michael got on the bed once again, this time straddling her tail, and brought his now fully erect member to rest against her slit. Now came the _real_ enjoyment, but rushing into it was not what Michael had in mind. No, he was going to ease into things.

Resting his hands on her thighs, Michael stabilized himself as he began to slowly rock back and forth. His member throbbed lightly against her slit, the two sighing contently from the tiny sparks of pleasure that came. "Michael..." Ver gasped as her folds were gently stroked and parted.

"Feeling good?" he asked.

"Yes..." she sighed, resting her head against the pillow. Each time he grinded against her, she visibly shook. Michael could feel her tail twitching with every movement on his part. "G-go on… I'm ready…" But on the contrary, he stopped altogether, resulting in her casting him a disappointed look.

"Why…why did you stop?" she asked.

"Because," he said calmly, "you didn't ask nicely."

"W-what?"

"You heard me. Want me to keep going? Then ask nicely." He knew that he was tormenting her, reducing her to pleading, by the shocked look on her face.

"…Please… Michael. I can't take it. Please just… take me…" she begged. It almost sounded like she was whining. With a smirk, Michael nodded and lined up his member with her slit before slamming himself deep within in one thrust. Ver sighed deeply as she felt herself be penetrated by him yet again, her inner walls stretching to adjust to his cock. He caressed her inner thigh as she became acclimated to his presence within her. Slowly, Michael removed himself from her, then slammed into her once again. He decided to that their initial pace would be slow but hard thrusts. "Ohhh yes," she moaned, placing her hands on his shoulders. He, in turn, wrapped his arms around her sides, embracing her the best he could given his current position. Despite her size, her inner walls clasped around him, providing for warm, wet friction with each thrust. She, in turn, embraced him, pulling him into a tight hug as he pounded her nether regions relentlessly.

"You don't seem… to want to go… back t-to your method… now do you?" he asked between thrusts. She hastily shook her head.

"N-no! I n-never want to… go back…" The dragoness was unable to remain still as her trainer satisfied her in ways her own dominating sessions never could. Every thrust to him was a pleasure-filled victory over his possessive flygon, a victory that she sure as hell didn't seem to mind forfeiting. In order to further stimulate her, Michael lowered his hand and began to furiously rub her clit. "Ahhh!" she yelled, instinctively wrapping her legs around him. Her mouth lay open, her breath coming out in short, intense gasps. "Michael… k-keep doing th-that!" Ver's insides began to convulse around her trainer's member, squeezing him tightly as if to beg for it to stay inside. Michael was amazed that a flygon could even be so tight - especially one of her size!

With how much her walls hugged his manhood, Michael had to move faster in order to achieve the same penetration. She held onto him tightly as he ravaged her vent, panting in tune with the audible slaps of their nether regions contacting one another. Her tail was rapidly swinging about, brushing into his legs with each sweep, and she lay sprawled out across the bed, with each of her wings draping over the side. For what seemed like hours, he claimed his flygon, savoring each moan of pleasure that came from her as he plunged into her depths. It wouldn't be much longer for either of them, but he wasn't quite through in getting to her. Having made love with each and every one of his pokémon, Michael had learned to pay attention to their bodies, as well as his own. With how tight she was getting, Ver would surely be the one to release first. Her cavern convulsed around his cock, milking it for all it was worth and trying to make him fill her womb. "M-Michael..." she panted heavily, "I'm not… going to last much longer…"

"Tell me… you're mine…" Michael instructed her. Her tail flicked madly, signifying that she was seconds away from the biggest orgasm of her life. But Michael was keeping her just out of reach of it, and it was driving her mad. Michael could see it on her - she needed this release more than anything else, and would do whatever it took to achieve it. She would not refuse his demand.

"I'm yours!" she yelled. "I am all yours!"

"Good... girl…" he panted. "Now beg… me to let you… finish…"

"Please! Michael, please! Let me… I'm so close… Please, just let… your dragon have this!" Ver begged without hesitation.

"Attagirl Ver," he said. Michael paused momentarily. The look Ver gave him from stopping - after she had given in to him! But he put to rest any notion of letting her down; he clasped her sides, stabilizing himself, and slammed into her as hard as he possibly could. She didn't take but a second to clamp down on him, harder than before, and hold him in place.

She roared as the powerful climax hit her - a loud cry of submissive pleasure that likely woke everybody within the next ten rooms. "You… belong… to me!" he grunted, echoing her own words, fortifying his claim over the flygon. Kept still by her tightened walls, Michael joined her in the brink of orgasm, painting her insides white with his seed.

He remained inside of her for several minutes, struggling to catch his breath. With his head pressed against her midsection, he listened as the rapid pounding of her heart gradually died down. Slowly, he pulled his flaccid member out of her. His energy had been drained from him more so than any of his other encounters with the girls, and it wouldn't be long until he caved in to exhaustion. Ver looked up at the ceiling, her mouth agape. He mustered the strength to get to his feet, before walking to around the side of the bed and collapsing onto it beside her. Michael placed his hand on her neck, gently rubbing it in a loving manner. In response, she craned her neck and began to tenderly assault his cheek with quick, sensitive licks. "Th-that's my Ver," he whispered before claiming her mouth.

 **/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\**

It was now the eighteenth of December - only three more days until the Solstice Battle. Michael and the girls were perfecting their attacks, and went over countless scenarios to prepare for any possible matchup. Ver had, in one of their flights, spotted a plateau amongst the nearby mountains that faced away from the city, out of sight. Such a place proved to be the perfect spot for Alaina to hone her skills alongside the others.

The latias first displayed her mist ball to Michael. The second he witnessed her power, he knew that Leo would come to a harsh realization - that there _were_ those out there that could present him with a challenge. Even after witnessing first-handedly what the former champion's team was capable of, he seriously doubted that any of Leo's known team could pose a challenge to the legendary. Alaina was surely stronger than the others, and nobody even came close to matching her speed. Michael was confident that, if the need arose, she would be able to take out at least one of Leo's pokémon.

By 3:00, they were all ready to call it a day. Mounting Veronica, Michael recalled the others and flew into town. Upon landing, he released them again, and they began to browse around for a place to eat. They eventually decided on a small burger joint, which had a quaint, local atmosphere about it. Inside, roughly a third of the tables were occupied, as well as some of the seats at the bar. He made his way to the edge of the diner, reserving the only table that was big enough for his whole team. They each ordered their meals, engaging in short conversation while they waited, much to the surprise of several in the restaurant. Before long, their order was brought to their table by a waiter that looked to be a year younger than Michael. He began feeding Elise, as per his usual routine. He found great amusement in how she ate her fries, taking small bites until he popped the last bit of potato into her mouth. As they ate, he couldn't help but realize that their waiter was staring at them. Michael eventually waved him over, to which he approached, seemingly embarrassed that he had been caught. "Is something wrong?" Micheal asked.

"No," the waiter, by the name of River, stated. "I just couldn't help but notice… you're Higgs, right? Michael Higgs?" Swallowing his current bite, Michael nodded.

"Yep." Another individual at the bar turned slightly in his seat.

"Well congratulations on getting so far into the tournament," River said. "Haven't seen anything like what your team has brought to the table."

"Thanks, the girls have really taken care of me as a trainer," he said. Taking a napkin from the dispenser, he dabbed a small spot of ketchup on Elise's muzzle.

"So," the man at the bar began, "you think you'll be able to beat Leo?"

"I think it's gonna be a hard battle," Michael admitted, "but I don't see us losing it. What do you think?"

"Well, truth be told, it's gonna be hard to stop that one. He's come within inches of the regional champion several times. I'd give it a few years before he manages to defeat Lance."

"So then I'm guessing you think he's got this one in the bag, right?"

"I'll say this - the odds are definitely in Leo's favor. Can't remember the last time one of his pokémon was actually knocked out. Plus, the betting pools aren't exactly favoring a win for you."

"Then I guess we're going to make a few lucky people a lot of money," Layla simply stated. River retrieved a pitcher of iced tea, then went about refilling their drinks. He looked as though he was slightly troubled by something, though.

"I guess I should go ahead and tell you this… Leo's kind of a regular here. He uh… he usually swings by about now…" _Of course, why not?_

"That's fine. I see no reason as to why that should be a problem." River's statement held true; a few minutes later, the highly regarded trainer walked through the doors, wearing a black leather jacket. The room went relatively silent, all conversation coming to a halt as the customers shifted their focus towards the local celebrity. Michael noticed a trio of polymer ball holders on each side of his belt, containing pokéballs of various types. River met him at the cash register to take his order, albeit in an awkward silence.

"What's wrong, Riv?" Leo asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Anyways, I'll have my usual." The auburn-haired trainer turned aside, heading towards one of the bar seats. It was then that he noticed Michael. "No freaking way." Leo shook his head, bearing a slight grin. "I'll be damned - Michael Higgs. You're bigger than I thought," he said, extending his hand.

"Uh… thanks?" Michael returned the gesture.

"Looking forward to our match?"

"We sure are; we've had a lot of fun in the tournament. Can't wait to see how we do against you and your team."

"Same. Hope that you all will be able to give us a challenge. I know that my team is ready for a real fight." His tone came across as slightly cocky, but such an attitude was not unwarranted given his skill level.

"Well, the girls here really know how to kick some ass. I think it'll be close." Leo nodded.

"Hopefully," he said, looking them over. "So, gonna introduce me? I'd show ya mine, but most of them aren't with me at the moment. I've only got Raiden here, and he… well, he ain't much of a people person," Leo stated, tapping a ball with a prominent lightning bolt on it. Michael introduced the girls one by one, all except for Alaina, who was still utilizing her invisibility. "Pretty solid team - must've taken awhile to put together."

"Actually, I lucked into each one of these girls in the matter of two years."

"Really? That _is_ pretty lucky. Took me the better part of eight years to gather my team. Started out in Hoenn, then spent some time in Kalos before settling down here. Damn if I didn't hate that place. Only good thing that came from Kalos as far as I'm concerned is Tina. Speaking of which, she can't wait to battle you," he said, motioning towards Ver.

"Well tell her that I'm ready for her," Ver stated. Leo looked somewhat amusedly at her, then back at Michael. "You must be military - on leave, I'm guessing. Those aren't out yet for the general population. What branch?" Michael was surprised by his perceptiveness, but maybe that was why he was such an elite trainer.

"Army."

"Well then I thank you for your service." At this point, Leo's meal had been fixed, and River was about to place it on a plate. "No, that's okay - I'm taking this one to-go." River nodded, then went about placing Leo's order in a large plastic bag. The trainer grabbed his food, then made his way to the door, before turning to look at Michael and the girls once more - this time, with a much more serious expression. "Michael, you seem like a neat guy, and your team is impressive. But know this - I've never lost a match in this tournament. When we battle, I will use everything in my power to take you out."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Michael replied, with an equally stern gaze. Leo smiled and nodded.

"Good, good. I will be counting down the hours. And who knows? With any luck… you might just get to see Raiden…" With that, he was out the door and on his way.

 **…..**

It was now 3:00, the twenty-first of December - the day of the Solstice Battle. Michael stood on the balcony, dressed in a polo and khaki pants, and kept his focus on the stadium in the distance, able to hear the bustling activity even from his location. Cars surrounded the arena for both parking and tailgating, and a large blimp circled around it. By the looks of things, there would not be an empty seat inside. Vehicles had even been parked near the hotel and on the sides of the roads, among other places, and people walked along the shoreline in clusters, making their way to the stadium.

Ten minutes later, and it was almost time for them to head out. Michael and the girls were quiet, anticipating the match that was to come. _Why the hell am I so nervous?_ he wondered. _I mean damn, I've killed people without a second thought. What's another battle compared to going to war?_ But yet, no matter how he tried to reason it through, he couldn't deny the fact that he was on the edge. Maybe it was because of the fact that his girls were the very same way - particularly his glaceon. "Elise, please calm down sweetie," Michael said.

"I-I can't," she stammered. "I don't know if I'm cut out for this…" He knelt before her, pulling her into a hug.

"Look at me," he said, tilting her chin up. "I know you are. I have faith in all of you. Leo is a professional… I'll grant him that. But I know he doesn't have the bond that I do with my pokémon. That's what makes us such a strong team." Elise nuzzled into his neck as he rubbed down her back, briefly savoring her sleek fur before standing up once more.

"You're right," Layla said. "We've got this. Leo may be good, but we've got the better trainer." Alaina levitated to his side, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"It's almost time," she said. Casting a glance towards the digital clock on the alarm, he knew that she was right.

"Alright, let's go get Zeke." After a few words of affection, he returned all of them besides Alaina, who cloaked herself after politely requesting not to be recalled into the sphere. Michael walked into the hallway, stopping in front of Zeke's door. Before he could knock, the zoroark pulled the door open. "All set?"

"Yep. Let's go." The two, both wearing their aviators, made their way to the lobby. Already, there was news coverage around the stadium for the big event being displayed on the large plasma screen over the stone fireplace, being watched by dozens of people. Had any of them shifted their focus away from the screen, they would have realized that the very person about to take on the local champ was mere feet away from them. Going outside, they soon merged with the crowd of people heading to the stadium. "You know," Zeke began, "it would be a real shame to lose in front of all these people…"

Michael shot him an unamused glare.

"Not helping, Zeke."

"Relax, I was just kidding. You've got this. And even if you do lose, so what? All of you still had fun doing something that you missed doing. Whatever happens, you still came out on top." He hadn't thought about it that way, but it was true. If he lost, it would kind of be a let down. But at the end of the day, they still got to relive their campaigning days, if only for a short period of time. And he wouldn't have traded this trip for anything in the world - even if Leo beat them by a long shot. After all, it was on this very trip that he had come to explore his new relationship with the most valuable people in the world to him.

"I guess you're right. I mean, the girls and I would like to win this, but if we don't… then that's alright. Second place out of seven hundred people isn't too bad, and we still had a blast doing it."

"That's the spirit," Alaina happily said from over his shoulder. They finally reached the long line leading into the nearest entrance gate. _Damn… well, at least we left an hour before the match…_ The two of them waited in line for what seemed like hours, but in reality was only about thirty minutes. As soon as the ticket salesman recognized who Michael was, both he and the zoroark were immediately waved through.

"They must've thought that I was one of your pokémon," Zeke laughed. "Oh well, I'm not complaining." They reached the sidelines of the field, watching as the final preparations were being made for the battle. Zeke looked to the side, then nudged Michael. "Smile for the camera," he said, grinning. Michael looked up at the main screen, seeing that one of the cameras had focused on them.

"Looks like Higgs has arrived," Scott said.

"Yep, and I've gotta say, I'm loving the matching shades with his zoroark," Mary stated.

" _His_ zoroark?" Zeke growled. "Dammit woman, I ain't owned by anyone!" Michael had to stifle a laugh.

"What happened to you not complaining?"

"That was different," Zeke muttered.

"Ah, be a good boy and return to your pokéball," Michael joked. Zeke shook his head, visibly irritated with his current situation.

"Piss off." Grinning, Michael looked away, hearing Alaina giggle nearby. "You too," Zeke added.

The bleachers were packed, the thousands upon thousands of spectators having claimed their spots and watching the playbacks of both trainers' previous battles. Michael recognized the current scene as that of Leo's tyranitar plowing through Will's team, reminding him of the strength of their opponents. Speaking of which, the screen switched to a display of Leo, who had just entered the stadium, wearing the same sleek, black leather jacket he had seen three days before. He waved at the crowd, keeping up his nonchalant mannerism before making eye contact with Michael. Leo nodded, then leisurely walked along the sidelines, stopping upon reaching his end of the field. _Looks like he thinks he's got this in the bag_ , Michael thought. _The girls are about to wipe that smug grin off his face._

The minutes sped by as Michael tried to shut out the numerous noises in the stadium. Aside from the multitude of voices in the stands, he was annoyed by how Scott and Mary never seemed to shut up. _I mean seriously, the battle hasn't even started yet._ But then again, they were announcers - they were _paid_ to do this, after all. _Ugh, I guess I'm just on edge right now…_ He noticed at this point that his hands were clenched into fists. As if sensing his mental irritation, Alaina rubbed his shoulders. "Calm yourself," she whispered. He wanted to hug her, but such an action would surely cause confusion to any onlookers. He took an impatient glance at the clock - 4:24. The battle would begin in twenty minutes. As he scanned the stands, he couldn't find a single empty space amongst the thunderous crowd.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't realize the approaching figures to his left. "Company," Alaina whispered, causing him to shift his focus to the approaching duo. It was, of all people, Will and his gardevoir.

"Ah, it's been awhile. Come to watch the battle?"

"Sure have," Will stated. "This… this is going to be an interesting match. I've never suffered such a loss as I did against him…"

"Hah, now you know how I felt the second time I challenged you." Will seemed to gather his thoughts, then nodded.

"Ah, yes - three years ago, wasn't it?"

"A little over two."

"Yeah. Ours was an intense battle, was it not? My team and I were thoroughly exhausted afterwards, weren't we Clara?"

' _Yes_ ,' a feminine voice rang in Michael's head. He concluded that it came from the gardevoir, but had not seen her mouth move at all. ' _I recall the feeling of your braixen's flames even to this day_.' It was nice to know that his team had left an impression on Will and his pokémon, though a victory over them would have been preferred. _Oh well, nothing that can be done about it now…_

"Who do you see winning this?" Michael asked, both of them watching Leo as he conversed with several in the crowd. Will shook his head.

"I don't know," he said. "I can't tell." Out of the corner of his eye, Michael noticed that Clara seemed to be staring at him, making him feel slightly uncomfortable. Will turned around, catching on to what she was doing. "Clara, you can't go around looking into people's minds," he sharply stated.

' _Forgive me_ ,' she stated to both of them. ' _He is just… I don't see him losing…_ '

"Oh? Rooting for Michael?" Will asked.

' _I'd say so. I think he will win - he has a psychic imprint on his mind. One more powerful than any other I've ever seen before._ ' Michael had to fight the urge to panic. The gardevoir had seemingly been able to detect Alaina's mark, something that the latias had mentioned could happen. She flashed him a subtle, suggestive smirk. ' _What have you been doing, Michael?'_

"Clara, mind your own business," Will said. "Look, I'm sorry about—"

"No," Michael interjected, "it's fine." He hoped that she would simply leave it at that. An awkward silence prevailed, with nobody knowing how to start again. Zeke, for one, seemed to find humor in the situation, as evident by his wide grin. Finally, Clara broke the ice.

' _What species is she?'_

"For the love of Arceus - Clara, lay off!" Michael felt his latias's hand lightly rest on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring rub.

"It's alright," she whispered. "You can tell them." After all, if Alaina could potentially be used in this battle, she would have to be revealed at _some_ point.

"She's uh… she's a latias…" For a moment, they stared at him with disbelief, until Will spoke up.

"You have… a latias?"

"Yeah."

' _Where is she?'_ Clara asked.

"Right here," Alaina answered from behind him.

"Fascinating," Will murmured. "I'd love to see her in action." For a moment, he displayed the anticipation of an impatient child, but he quickly composed himself.

"Well, you might just," Michael replied, watching as Leo pulled out one of his pokéballs. He pressed the central button, releasing his skarmory, who looked up at him curiously. He knelt down, running his hand down her neck as he began to explain something to her.

The sun had nearly reached the horizon, causing for the arena to quickly dim. The stadium lights beamed to life, compensating for the lack of natural brightness. It was almost time. In the middle of the opposing wall, a large, glass trophy sat. Michael could faintly make out the silver gleam from inside of it - the tournament ring. The referee was currently adjusting his headset.

"Looks like it's about time," Will said. "The legendaries don't choose just anyone to partner with. You must be a fine trainer, and I hope that someday we may battle once again."

"Same here. I've learned a lot over the years, and I'd say my team and I are eager to take you all on again." Will grinned, then nodded.

"Well then I wish you the best of luck."

' _As do I,_ ' Clara added.

4:40. Four minutes until the match began. Drones began to hover over the battlefield, having cameras attached to them in order to capture every possible view of the upcoming action. The referee walked out into the center of the field, standing on the large pokéball logo. "Would the two trainers please approach the center?" he asked. Michael took off his aviators and handed them to Zeke.

"Good luck man," he said as Michael turned away.

"I think I'm gonna need a lot more than luck," Michael laughed. "But thanks." Both of the trainers walked out onto the field, each coming from opposing sides, until they met in the center, right in front of the ref. "Alright you two, I want a good, clean match. You know the rules - five pokémon each, no items, and no unsportsmanlike conduct. Is that understood?"

"Yes," they both said.

"Good." He nodded towards the announcers' box.

"Please stand for the national anthem," Scott said. The stadium fell silent as everyone stood, paying their respects to their region. The region that Michael had fought so hard to protect. Now that he had willingly sacrificed his life for the nation of Johto, the song felt all the more powerful to him, all the more patriotic. But there was something that he valued even more than his country, something far more precious to him. And now, it was time to fight for them, and show everyone what they could do.

The song concluded, and the referee fished something out of his pocket - a golden coin. The side that was facing up displayed a proud dragonite. "This is heads," he said before flipping it over, revealing a pokéball, "and this is tails. Browning, you get to call the coin toss."

"Heads," Leo stated. The ref flicked the coin upwards, letting it fall to the ground, to which it bounced a few times before settling. The pokéball stared up at them.

"Tails - Higgs has won the coin toss. Browning will be sending out his pokémon first!" Leo simply shrugged it off. The referee turned around and began to make his way off of the field. The two shook hands, as was custom before the match. It was impossible for Michael not to notice the four silver rings on Leo's fingers, two on each hand. Each had the same garnet stone inlaid within the ring, surrounded with golden letters that displayed his champion status within the local tournament. Before Michael could get to his position, Leo spoke.

"I'm sure you saw me talking to Ava earlier."

"Your skarmory?"

"Yeah. She'll be sitting this one out. You know why?"

"Please, do enlighten me."

"Because, quite frankly, I'm not going to worry about setting up entry hazards. I'm not going to try to win through slow, calculated strategy. We're going all out, and we're going to run you over." His smirk was no longer there; a harsh, cold expression took the place of his usually carefree grin.

"Like hell you will." Michael walked away, towards his end of the field.

"That was kind of rude of him," Alaina said.

"He's about to eat those words," Michael simply stated. "He doesn't know who he's up against." He stopped upon reaching the end of the field, then slowly turned around. Leo gripped a great ball in his hand, ready to defend his title for a fifth consecutive victory. For a brief moment, the crowd fell silent, and the only sound was that of the distant caws of the seagulls. Michael locked eyes with his opponent. It was time to break Leo's streak. Time to show his team that they weren't the only formidable competitors in the region. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the referee give a quick signal.

"Begin," he shouted. Leo immediately threw the ball, releasing his first pokémon of the battle. Materializing in front of the trainer was his garchomp, ready for the fight. His fangs were exposed in a slight, malicious grin, and his curved fins extended outwards like rugged daggers. Michael retrieved a luxury ball from his pocket, knowing just by the temperature who was inside of it. Leo shook his head as the glaceon was released onto the filed.

"The first matchup gives a double type advantage to Higgs," Mary said.

"That's not going to help them - Stryker, use metal claw!" The garchomp sprinted towards her, ready to slice the ice-type with its long, sharp claw.

"Barrier!" Elise nodded, setting up against physical attacks with the formation of a light blue screen around her body. Stryker's attack hit its mark; the garchomp delivered a swift, powerful swipe to her midsection. The claw had only managed to ruffle her fur.

"What? Shi—Stryker, use flamethrower!" He hopped back, charging up a jet of flame before exhaling the fire towards Elise, who hopped to the side to avoid it. She was only partially successful, though. The flames scathed her back, causing her to yelp. Despite her singed backside, she landed, ready to go.

"Ice beam!"

"Protect!" Stryker extended his arms, forming a protective barrier to block the threatening blast of ice that approached him. The attack spread upon hitting his barrier, forcing him to anchor himself. He growled as he was brought to his knees; Elise kept the vicious beam coming. "Get outta there!" Leo shouted. The garchomp had no other choice. He jumped back before the ice beam could shatter his defense, only managing to leap over it by mere inches. A fierce yet confused glare was cast towards his two opponents, and it was evident that he was unfamiliar with having to play defensively.

"Is it just me, or is Higgs giving Leo's garchomp a run for his money?" Scott asked.

"Elise, hit him with ice shard!" The icy crystals formed within a matter of seconds in front of his glaceon, quickly hurtling towards Stryker.

"Take them out with stone edge!" Stryker wasted no time in summoning dozens of small, pointed rocks, and launching them at the incoming icicles. Shimmers of light were sporadically spread about as rock collided with ice and shattered it. Trajectories were thrown off course as the countless collisions occurred, but Elise's attack still persisted on through the garchomp's countermeasure. He could only try to block the spears with his fins before they smashed into him.

"Oh! Garchomp has taken a serious hit!" Mary said in shock. Leo looked equally dumbfounded. The attack died down, the last projectile crashing into his shoulder and shattering upon impact. Stryker grimaced in pain from the frigid assault, baring his fangs at the glaceon and trembling with rage.

"Outrage!" Stryker gave in to his newfound rage, dashing towards Elise and striking with his extended fin. She narrowly ducked a swipe to her head from the enraged dragon.

"Elise, get away from him!" She was way too close to use any of her moves effectively, and though she had sharply increased her defense, a hit like that would surely prove painful. She jumped back as another strike barely missed her. Stryker immediately leaped towards her, closing the gap between them as soon as it had been created.

"Leo's garchomp doesn't seem to be letting up on the glaceon," Scott commented. She tried once more to escape his proximity, dodging his vicious attacks with small leaps in each direction. Stryker, in his outrage, caught on to her timing, and, as she managed to duck under one attack, immediately followed it up with a harsh kick to her underside. Elise was sent to the ground right in front of Michael.

"Oww…"

"And now Higgs's glaceon is down! That was a nasty hit she just took," Scott said. Stryker leaped into the air, ready to deliver a harsh jab to her.

"Roll to the side and use ice beam!" She rolled over, avoiding the piercing claws that sank into the ground near her previous position.

"Stryker, use protect!" He swiftly ripped his claws out of the ground, bringing his arms in front of himself and forming another protective barrier, but it was clear that he wasn't seeing straight after his bout of unrestrained aggression. The blunt of her attack hit him straight in the chest before he could defend himself.

"G…garrr…" he growled as he clutched his chest, barely able to hold off the subzero blast.

"Get away from her!" Stryker stumbled off to the side before haphazardly dodging the rest of her attack. He had noticeable trouble in keeping his balance, the results of both using outrage and taking a hit. If she could manage to land a blizzard, then he would surely go down.

"Mary, I'm not so sure that garchomp can take another hit like that."

"I don't know, throughout all of Leo's years here, I've never seen his garchomp go down…" _Well that's about to change…_

"Follow it up with ice shard!"

"Counter with flamethrower!" Unlike last time, Stryker was able to completely overcome her attack, and the torrent of flame approached her. But Michael had planned for this.

"Mirror coat!" Immediately, she shielded herself with a cyan barrier, reflecting the attack straight back at the garchomp. He jumped to the side to avoid his own fire, unaware of what was about to come. "Quick! Follow it up with blizzard!" She braced herself, preparing to unleash pure devastation on the garchomp. Elise inhaled, then released a brutal flurry towards the vulnerable dragon.

"Stryker, protect!" _Again? Well, he's about to get a rude awakening._ Having relied on it three times within the last few minutes, Stryker's protective move was visibly losing its effectiveness. He held out the best he could, causing the blizzard to spread around him. He dug his feet into the ground, trying to withstand the attack that was quickly overpowering him. "Hold it - don't let a little cold get the better of you!" Taking everyone by surprise, the garchomp was forced to his knees. "Wh-what?!" Elise overcame him; his barrier was shattered. All Stryker could do was cover his face as the vicious winds overcame him. Leo watched as one of his pokémon was swept off of his feet, unable to rise again. The crowd seemed to go ballistic upon seeing the former champion's garchomp fall. After all, who would have expected one of Leo's pokémon to go down?

"Did… that just happen?" Mary asked. Sure enough, the screens overhead confirmed it. Leo's total dropped to four remaining.

"It's been years," Scott said, " _years_ since I've seen a knockout against Leo…" At that moment, Michael couldn't help but savor the look on his opponent's face. Confusion and shock plastered his face as he slowly returned Stryker. He quickly regained his usual demeanor.

"Alright," he yelled from across the field, "That was just because of the type matchup! Two can play at that game!" With that, he threw out his next choice - the blaziken - who took his combat stance, engulfing his wrists in flames. Michael and Elise weren't exactly in the best of positions anymore; now, her only attack option was shadow ball, and she was already hurt from her previous fight. It was very unlikely that she would be able to last long against the fire/fighting-type.

"Elise, use shadow ball!" She charged the violet orb quickly, then released it towards her new opponent.

"Counter it with shadow claw, Apollo," Leo said. The blaziken, in turn, responded with a slash of his claws, flinging the orb aside without much effort. _Damn, there goes that idea…_ "Good, now hit her with a blaze kick!"

"Don't let him get near you! Use shadow ball again!" She launched the attack a second time at the incoming blaziken. It collided with his chest, making him flinch, but not enough to deter him from attacking her. Apollo closed in on the weakened glaceon and planted a fiery kick right in her side. She was flung back, rolling to an ungraceful stop at Michael's feet.

"It now looks like Higgs is also down one," said Scott. "But that glaceon sure as heck put up a fight."

"Are you okay?" he asked gently. Elise slowly nodded, looking up at him exhaustedly.

"Y…yeah," she replied, barely above a whisper. He knelt down, taking out her ball.

"Would you be upset if I recalled you?" he asked, knowing fully well the answer to his question.

"Not… at all," she said.

"You did great out there. The others will take it from here." He pushed the button on her ball, returning her to its confines. "Alright," he said quietly to Alaina, "let's see how he likes this." He released Charlotte onto the field, who immediately withdrew her stick. "Char, take it away!" Leo wasn't going to wait for her to acclimate to the situation, and immediately gave an order.

"Apollo, use sky uppercut!"

"Psyshock!" Charlotte formed the crystal-like substances around her incoming opponent, crashing them into him before he could land his punch. The violet crystals struck painfully, giving of a resounding smack as they collided with Apollo's body.

"And Leo's blaziken is stopped dead in his tracks. That one looked like it stung."

"Shake it off and use aerial ace on her!" There was only a few yards between the two of them; if he managed to land that attack, then Charlotte's time on the field would be drastically reduced.

"Use flamethrower on him!" She thrust her stick forward, launching a harsh flame at her opponent, who continued to run through the fire. Michael knew that the blaziken could likely take such an attack all day, but he was trying to create a window of opportunity for Charlotte to safely put some distance between the two of them. Much to their luck, Apollo had kept his eyes shut while traversing through the heat before leaping towards the braixen; he wasn't looking where he was going. "Slide under him!" Charlotte immediately ceased the attack, running at Apollo, who had jumped towards her, and slid under him. His kick sailed harmlessly above her, leaving him surprised as he opened his eyes and found that she was nowhere to be seen.

"Now - use psybeam!" He swiftly turned around to see the bright beam take over his vision.

"Oh! He took that one straight to the face!" Scott shouted. Apollo stumbled back, almost losing his balance.

"Alright, that's it! Use quick attack!" Before Michael could give a command, Apollo quickly rammed into her with his full weight. The braixen fell on her back, moving hastily to get back to her feet. "Now use return!" Michael watched as he planted his foot into her midsection, sending her to the ground violently.

"Now it's looking like the braixen is in trouble," Scott continued. "That one really did a number on her…" Michael agreed; Charlotte looked to be in rough condition. But what the announcer hadn't mentioned was that Apollo looked to be suffering in his own regard. After having taken not one, but two powerful psychic attacks, his pain was evident in his stance alone.

"I think you could finish him off with one more psychic attack," Alaina commented. _Yeah, definitely._

"Char, use psyshock!" Exhausted as she was, she materialized the violet crystals once more around the blaziken.

"Quick attack!" He rushed towards the smaller fire-type, ready to ram into her and finish the fight.

"Jump to your left!" Charlotte lunged away from Apollo's pathway, barely managing to avoid him as he sped by. He came to a sliding halt, quickly turning to face the braixen, visibly irritated. However, he seemed to forget the fact that her attack was closing in on him.

"Use shadow claw," Leo said. Apollo frantically slashed the crystals, destroying them before they could land a hit.

"Now Charlotte! Use psybeam!" She tiredly held out her stick, launching the beam out of the flame on the tip. Apollo was powerless to do anything; the beam connected with him. The blaziken's knees buckled, and he fell to the ground.

The deafening roar of the crowd resounded as Leo withdrew his fallen starter in disbelief. Not one, but _two_ of his prized pokémon had been taken down in a battle that he had figured would be an easy win. Now he was being forced to face the ugly reality that he had not taken his opponents seriously enough.

"And that's two for Higgs! This is just… unbelievable!" Leo gripped an ultra ball in his hand, ready to release his next choice. Michael recognized the ball as that of Leo's tyranitar.

"I may have underestimated you," Leo called out, "but you won't be taking my title!" With that, he threw the ball, bringing out his feared rock-type. "They've already taken out Stryker and Apollo," Leo told his pokémon. "Don't take them lightly, Everett!" The tyranitar nodded, then scoped out his competition. It was then that Michael noticed the tyranitar's expression had changed from a look of indifference to a subtle grin.

The presence of the rock and dark-type made nearly all of Charlotte's moves useless, and her exhaustion certainly wasn't helping. _Alright, we could probably get a shot or two in. I'll need Layla to take him out, though._ "Char, use shock wave!" She shot a weak bolt of electricity at her opponent, clearly not far from going down. Everett took the hit without much to show for it.

"That didn't seem to hurt him at all," Mary remarked.

"Everett, take her out with stone edge!" The ground rose from around the tyranitar; sharp, stone-like structures formed from the earth before being hurled towards Charlotte.

"Dodge them!" Michael said. She leaped to the side, avoiding the first projectiles, but her sluggishness allowed for Everett to nail her in the side with a well-placed shot.

"Ahh!" she yelled, collapsing from the impact. She tried to regain her footing, but it was obvious that she was done.

"Good job Charlotte," Michael said, returning her.

"And now the score is even once again. These two are set on giving each other a hard time tonight…"

"Seems like it," Mary added. "In the years I've been here, I don't think I've seen a battle this intense before. I think that Leo may have finally met his match." Leo looked irritated with the comment, but his pokémon didn't seem to be complaining. Finally, a true challenge for someone of his capabilities.

Michael grabbed Layla's ball, knowing that she had just what it took to give the monstrous pokémon a fight. She was quickly released onto the field, standing off against the much larger opponent. "Oh, that spells trouble for the tyranitar," Scott said. "It's clear who has the type advantage with this matchup." Despite his disadvantage, Everett didn't seem deterred in the slightest.

Michael was the first to issue a command. "Alright Layla, start out with a flash cannon!" She stretched her arm out, quickly charging and releasing a silver beam.

"Thunderbolt!" Everett launched a vicious current at the lucario. The electricity zipped through the air, cutting through her attack and nearly contacting her.

"Extreme speed!" She dashed towards the tyranitar, slamming into him before Leo could say a word. He barely reacted to the move; his bulky, tough physique protected him from any real damage. Michael knew that the move wouldn't really hurt him, but that wasn't what he had in mind. "Follow it up with a power-up punch!"

"Bulldoze!" Layla landed her punch, striking her opponent in the side before receiving a harsh shove onto the ground. Everett clutched his side, and it was made evident that her attack had been far more effective than his own. She hurriedly got to her feet, regaining her stance with a new, fiery determination. "Fire blast!"

"Use water pulse!" Everett exhaled a scorching flame towards Layla, who released her own attack. The pressurized jet of water penetrated the flames, nailing him center-mass, making him stumble back. The sheer force of the blast had visibly disoriented him. "Keep it up Layla!" The tyranitar fell on one knee as his energy was quickly leaving him. Layla only intensified her assault, sending the audience into a frenzy as Leo's most infamous pokémon was powerless before her.

"I can hardly believe what I'm seeing! Leo's tyranitar appears to be going down!" Scott said, clearly surprised as the rest of the spectators. Michael looked at Leo, who simply smirked. _Shit… he's got something planned…_ His conformation came in Leo's next statement.

"Use thunderbolt!"

"Layla, stop!" But it was far too late; Everett, despite his dazed state, launched the electric attack. Layla was fast, but she couldn't out-speed electricity. The static zipped across her water pulse, overcoming her within the second. Her shrieks of pain were enough to show that the hit had dealt serious damage.

"Wow! What a way to turn a desperate situation around!" Mary stated.

"I learned that one from you," Leo yelled proudly.

Static coursed throughout Layla's ruffled fur, causing her to wince in pain. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the burn of the current that slowly died out. "Are you alright?" Michael asked. She nodded. "Alright, then hit him with a high-jump kick!" Everett was doing all he could to keep his footing, so he was vulnerable to the powerful attack.

"Drop to the ground!" Leo warned his pokémon. The tyranitar obeyed, only a second too late - the kick that would have contacted his chest slammed into his face. Layla thrust off of him, leaving him to collapse onto the ground from the brutal move.

"Just like that, the tables have been turned again," Scott said.

"These two are full of surprises," Mary added. "This is the most intense battle I've seen on these grounds. I mean, just _look_ at them!"

"Everett, it's time to end this," Leo stated frustratedly. "Use hyper beam!" He growled, wearily regaining his footing and opening his maw.

"Quick! Aura sphere!" She haphazardly charged the blue orb, launching it at her opponent as he released the devastating beam. Both moves met their mark. Layla took the blunt of Everett's attack and was completely engulfed in the vicious blast. The tyranitar, despite hardly being conscious, followed through with his attack, not letting up until the beam faded away from exhaustion. Layla had fainted, and was sprawled out on the ground. _Shit…_

"A series of smart moves on Leo's part has put him ahead of Higgs," Scott said. "But I doubt his tyranitar is gonna last much longer."

"Yeah, he looks like he could topple over at any minute," Mary replied. A lot of pressure would be placed on the flygon; Veronica would have to finish him off _and_ fight whoever came next. Layla was quickly returned, replaced by the powerful dragon. Veronica growled, stretching her wings in anticipation. Everett did his best to take a threatening stance, but Ver saw through it, knowing that he wouldn't be able to last long.

"Giga impact." Everett placed his final surge of strength into the chaotic attack, viciously charging towards Ver.

"Fly over him and use earth power!" Ver took off immediately, avoiding the incoming tyranitar with a spiral overhead. She quickly arched downward, landing on the ground with a loud thud.

"Use stone edge!" Everett wasted no time in launching the rocks at the flygon, who abandoned her own attack. Ver hit the ground to duck the projectiles as they flew over her head.

"Now's your chance, Ver!" She sprung up and responded with an echoing stomp. A golden disturbance swiftly formed around the tyranitar; the ground rose and slammed into him. He covered his face as he was pelted relentlessly.

"Dammit!" Leo yelled as Everett collapsed.

"The score is even once again," Mary announced. "Leo won't be getting out of this without using one of his other pokémon." Everett was returned as Leo pulled out his fourth pokéball, clutching it with frustration. This battle had _not_ gone the way that he had predicted. But, it was far from over.

"We're done playing games!" Leo said. "You've done well… much better than I would have guessed, but you will _never_ get past Tina!" With that, he threw the ball, materializing a colossal figure onto the battlefield. _Damn… that thing's huge!_ Large enough to make Ver look weak at easily two feet taller than her, and with a much thicker build.

"Oh…" Alaina murmured, also taking in the sight of the prehistoric beast before them. She eyed her formidable opponent, lowered her large head and let loose an ear-splitting roar.

"A tyrantrum! Arceus, that thing is huge!" Scott said. And he wasn't wrong; she likely weighed seven hundred pounds or more. Though the type matchup slightly favored Ver, she was large enough to present a serious threat.

"Start with dragon breath!" Michael instructed. Ver released an intense, blue breath towards her opponent, causing Tina to brace herself.

"Counter with dark pulse!" She exhaled her own attack, splitting through the incoming fog with a dark beam. Ver quickly avoided the attack, keeping a steady hover over the ground. "Good, now follow it up with head smash!" Tina broke out into a heavy, echoing jog, lowering her head and preparing to ram into the flygon.

"Dragon claw!" Michael said. Ver barely had time to attack, slicing at her opponent only for the tyrantrum to duck her claw. Veronica instead received a violent headbutt to her midsection. She growled in pain as she stumbled back, leaving her open to another strike.

"Ice fang!" Leo commanded. If that attack landed, it would do a number on Ver, and could even bring her to the brink of fainting.

"Use brick break!" Ver pulled herself together, responding to the approaching tyrantrum with a sharp uppercut, striking Tina's agape jaw. "Good, now use bulldoze!" She spun around, sweeping the larger aggressor's legs out from under her before following it up with a harsh kick, which sent Tina rolling. Leo's pokémon didn't stay down for long, though, and quickly regained her footing.

"That was impressive," Mary commented. "The tyrantrum managed to shake that hit off almost instantly!" Taking Tina down was going to be a chore, and would require Ver's most powerful moves.

"Tina, use ancient power!" The moment the words left Leo's mouth, Tina began to radiate white as she formed a large orb in front of her.

"Fly over it!" Michael instructed. Ver took off as Tina launched the orb, adjusting her ai to account for Ver's change in position. The flygon spun to avoid the attack, but was unable to completely evade it, getting nailed in the wing and forcing her into a haphazard landing.

"Tyrantrum has shot the flygon down. She really came in for a rough landing, didn't she?"

"She sure did, Scott. It's gonna be tough to recover from that one," Mary said. Ver was uncomfortably vulnerable to her foe - a fact that Tina was ready to use to her advantage as she ran towards the flygon.

"Quick - use dragon claw!"

"Ver get away!" She hurriedly got to her feet, quickly leaping back as the claws of her opponent raked across her chest. A trio of slim, red lines were drawn across, making her growl in annoyance. "Alright, hit her back with an earth power!" She swiftly attacked the tyrantrum, creating a rough disturbance around Tina, which immediately rose to slam into her. She roared as the harsh earth brutally contacted her, making her cringe in pain while struggling to keep her balance.

"Tyrantrum has been stunned by a well-timed earth power! And it looks like she's still suffering from it…" Scott announced. Due to her proportionately small arms, Tina had been unable to protect her eyes from the dust as it rose. She rapidly shook her head in a futile attempt to remove the debris from her eyes.

"Ver! Use superpower!" The flygon wasted no time in closing the gap between her and the defenseless tyrantrum.

"Giga impact!" Leo yelled. Tina, still unable to see, trusted her trainer's words. Lowering her head, she threw her entire body into Ver, slamming the dragoness back before following it up with a mighty charge. Ver released a startled growl as she was forcibly driven back, gripping Tina's neck to avoid being thrown down and run over. Her feet dug into the ground, she kicked out clouds of dust as she was shoved closer to Michael.

"Strength!" Michael ordered.

"Screw… you!" Ver growled, planting her feet and putting all of her strength into an upward thrust.

Tina found her feet leaving the ground as she was heaved over the flygon, who released her grip on the tyrantrum's neck by slamming her onto the ground, merely yards away from Michael.

"Oh!" Mary yelled over the crowd. "That was brutal!" Tina tried to regain her footing, having considerable difficulty in doing so. Even Leo knew that she was nearing her limit. Ver panted heavily, but treaded towards her once again. "This might just be it for the tyrantrum…"

"Like hell - Tina, use hidden power!" Still on her side, Tina opened her mouth, preparing to exhale the attack. By the light blue radiation, both Michael and Ver knew that it would be an ice type attack.

"Superpower!" Ver leaped over the frigid blast and landed beside her opponent, responding with a violent kick to Tina's side. The tyrantrum rolled over, releasing a pained bellow, and passed out.

"Dammit!" Leo yelled. His frustration was clear as he recalled his large pokémon. He looked down at Tina's ball in disbelief of what had happened.

"Higgs has taken the lead, bringing this match to Leo's last pokémon," Scott stated.

"It looks as though this battle will be settled by both trainers' final pokémon," Mary added. Though Ver wouldn't admit it, she knew that she, too, had taken several hits from the fight and wouldn't be lasting much longer.

"Michael…" Alaina whispered, "You know what she said is right…"

"Ver… well, she always lasts longer than the others. I think that—."

"Michael," she interrupted. "It's going to happen. We both accepted that this may happen… that it could come down to this…"

"…I know," Michael sighed. He felt her wrap her arms around him tightly, giving him a reassuring embrace. Leo held the ball of his final pokémon in his hand, running his finger along the lighting-shaped emblem on the front.

"I admit," he finally stated, "I didn't take you and your team seriously enough. You've won the fight up till this point… but we're shutting this down now."

"You're going to lose this, Leo!" Michael replied. "You're out of options. This is the end of the line for you!"

"No, Michael - this is just the start. You've got no idea what you're up against!"

"Looks like they're exchanging some heated words," Mary commented, unable to hear what they were saying. Leo extended his arm, lightly placing his finger on the central release button.

"Raiden… it's time to finish this!" The red beam shot out, materializing his final pokémon. A wavy, purple mane adorned his back, equally as prominent as his piercing red eyes. The large, yellow sabertooth roared out his challenge, forcing Michael to cover his ears.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," Michael muttered. He could barely hear himself think over the noise of the crowd

"Arceus, it can't be…" Alaina was at a loss for words as she gazed at their final challenge.

"A raikou!" Scott yelled. All of the cameras zoomed in on the legendary that had captured the attention of every single spectator present. "He… he has a legendary!" Veronica looked back at her trainer with shock.

"To see one in person… wow…" Mary trailed off.

"You forced my hand on this one, Michael," Leo stated. "I'm sorry to say, but you were screwed the moment this battle started. All of them were!"

"Maybe they were… but not us! We're taking the raikou down!" Raiden growled in response, taking an offensive stance as though he were ready to pounce. Michael then addressed his flygon.

"Ver, do you think you could land an attack or two on him?" She nodded.

"I've still got plenty of fight left in me," she replied. Her typing allowed for her to resist Raiden's main attacks, but standing up against a legendary… well, that would likely result in her fainting. Though she was visibly uneasy, Ver was ready to take him on.

"Well that is bold of you," Leo said with a grin. "Stupid, but bold." She ignored his comment, spreading her wings in preparation to take off.

"The two of them are standing off," Mary said, "and to tell you the truth, Scott, I don't know how the flygon will manage to stand against such a powerful creature…"

"You've got this Ver," Alaina said aloud. The flygon briefly nodded, then focused on the task at hand. Her opponent would be both a large and a fast one, and his moves would surely overpower that of a normal pokémon's. But this was the opportunity of a lifetime - to face off against a legendary. Despite her exhaustion, she was determined do her best against the much more powerful foe. Michael would have to make use of her ranged moves; she was undoubtedly weakened after all of the close combat with Tina.

Michael was determined to get the first move in. "Ver, use earth power!" She attacked as quickly as she could, making the ground rise beneath Raiden. The raikou was too quick, though; he leaped into the air, covering half the distance between him and Veronica in a single bound.

"Quick attack!"

"Ver, fly!" A strong flap of her wings and she had propelled herself off of the ground. Raiden lunged at the dragon before she could climb high, causing her to spiral aside to avoid being nailed.

"Use shadow ball!" Leo commanded. The second Raiden's feet touched the ground, he sharply veered towards Ver, launching the purple sphere at her.

"Hit it with flame—!" He was too late; the attack was far faster than any others of its kind and had struck the back of her head. She winced in pain, doing her best to stay airborne.

"Raikou has delivered quite a blow to the flygon, and I've gotta say - that had to be the fastest shadow ball I've ever seen!" Ver had stabilized her flight once again, ready to retaliate against the powerful foe.

"Flamethrower!" She inhaled, and Raiden immediately reacted, turning around and darting away. A torrent of flame leaped from her maw, trailing Raiden by a few feet. He made a sharp turn to avoid coming close to his trainer, enticing Ver to aim ahead of him to compensate for his blurring movement. Raiden leaped over the pillar of flame without a second thought.

"Extrasensory!" His eyes adopted a violet glow; with a light growl, Raiden shot a bright beam at the flygon. She diverted her attack to collide with his, but was shocked to see the incoming light cutting through her flames. The sharp impact to her chest caused her to come in for a quick landing, and she bent forth as she clasped her stinging midsection.

"And it looks like the flygon is just about down for the count," Scott said. Her knees were shaking as she struggled to keep her footing. Leo crossed his arms, nodding towards Raiden.

"I don't know what y'all were expecting," he called out. "Raiden, go ahead and finish her off with a crunch." The sabertooth sprinted towards the center of the field, closing in to his wounded opponent. He pounced forth, his fangs nearing his target.

"Return!" Michael yelled. Veronica swiftly spun around, bringing her clenched fist to meet his neck. Raiden never landed his attack; the sharp hook sent him rolling.

"The flygon just landed a wicked right hook on the raikou!" Scott shouted.

"Way to go, Ver," Alaina said.

"Quick - dragon breath!" Ver exhaled the blue fumes at the raikou, completely hiding his entire form.

"Oh for the love of - Raiden, use quick attack!" His figure could be seen getting back up through the mist, and before Michael could give another command, he lunged towards Ver at blazing speeds. His shoulder connected with her chest, resulting in a loud smack as she hurled to the ground. Raiden slowed down, then turned to face the fallen flygon. She didn't make another movement.

"Higgs is now down to his final pokémon as well. This battle has come down to the very wire, much to the surprise of the betting pools," Mary stated. "But this battle has likely come to an upset conclusion on Higgs' part. Nobody can stand up to a legendary."

"That's right," Scott followed. "One thing's for certain, though - whoever loses tonight's battle has nothing to be ashamed about. This has been by far the most exhilarating battle that we've seen on these grounds!"

"Great job Ver," Michael said as he returned the unconscious dragon. She had definitely pulled her weight in this battle, and should be proud of her performance.

But now, the inevitable dilemma had arrived. Michael knew it could have very well happened, and had said that he was prepared to react accordingly, but now he wasn't so sure. _Are we ready… to reveal her?_

"Michael… you knew there was a chance of this…" He felt her hand caress his cheek as she softly spoke. "We are ready for this."

"Alaina… are you sure about this. We don't have to—."

"Yes," she interrupted, placing a single invisible claw over his lips, "I am. There is no need to hide anymore. Look at Raiden out there - he has accepted this as well. We do not need to live in fear."

"You're right," Michael admitted. He looked at his eager competition, the raikou solemnly awaiting his next challenge. "Well… you ready for this?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she giggled.

"Who the hell are you talking to?" Leo asked confusedly. Michael simply shook his head, stifling a laugh.

"Well, go on ahead. I know you've got what it takes to win this." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek in response. Not a second later, he felt the rush of air as she flew out into the field. His foe impatiently waited for him to continue the battle. But now, he was in for a rude awakening.

"Are you gonna continue or what?" he irritatingly asked. "Throw out your pokémon!" Michael nodded.

"I already have. She's on the field as we speak." Raiden sniffed the air experimentally, tensing up upon realizing that somehow, he wasn't alone.

"What are you talking about?!"

"Leo… you're far too prideful for your own good. You thought that there weren't others out there that could match you, and you were wrong." Leo clenched his fist as he heard Michael confront him. "I'll say that you're an impressive trainer. The girls haven't fought like this in years, and a raikou is definitely something to be proud of. But guess what? You're not the only trainer with a legendary."

"What the—."

"Now Alaina!" With a flash, she dropped her camouflage, revealing herself to everyone as she hovered over the pokéball emblem in the middle of the field.

"This is unbelievable!" Mary yelled over the thunderous crowd. "Another legend has made an appearance!" Raiden bared his fangs at the latias, knowing that he would no longer be simply walking away with a victory.

"Great. That's just great," Leo said, shaking his head. "Well, no matter. I know firsthand what Raiden is capable of - and some floating swan isn't going to take him down!"

"We're gonna make you eat those words," Michael retorted. "Alaina, let's put the cat to sleep!" That was the last straw for Leo.

"Use crunch on her!" Raiden immediately lunged at her, ready to land the dark-type attack with his mouth agape. Alaina swiftly flew underneath him, causing him to harmlessly sail overhead. She spun to face him as he landed, ready to capitalize upon his opening.

"Dragon pulse!" She created a light-blue sphere between her hands and sent it flying at her opponent.

"Jump!" Leo yelled. Raiden trusted his trainer's advice and bounded up, despite not seeing the approaching threat. The latias's attack zipped underneath him, colliding with the ground and creating a sizable crater. "Thunderbolt!" His body became enshrouded in electricity, and he quickly turned to face her. A wicked bolt was launched in the direction of the latias, who dodged it with a beautiful sideways roll. "Again!" Another attack, this one avoided by a simple upward pull and leaving her flying towards the raikou upside-down.

"Now Alaina - mist ball!" A bright orb was formed between her hands, which she launched at the other legendary as she neared him. It collided with him head-on, sending his front half to the ground as she looped overhead.

"Raikou had to feel that one," Mary commented.

"I couldn't agree more," Scott said. "Right between the eyes…" Despite the hit he had taken, Raiden growled and composed himself, ready to retaliate. His opponent, though, wasn't going to make that easy - she had climbed far higher than his attacks could reach.

"Now hit him with another dragon pulse!" She diverted her flight path towards Raiden, and followed with another blast.

"Dodge it and use discharge!" The raikou avoided Alaina's attack with a leap to the side, waiting until she came closer before expelling a wicked electrical charge in all directions. A lone bolt struck her wing, causing for Alaina to freeze up involuntarily. As she tried to snap herself out of the temporary paralysis, Leo issued his next command. "Hit her with shadow ball now!" The violet distortion was launched from his mouth, and impacted Alaina not a second later. She released a sharp wail as the orb dissipated into her, causing for her to quickly lose elevation.

"Snap out of it Alaina!" She shook her head in an attempt to regain control over her body. As she spiraled closer to the ground, she broke free, pulling up before she crashed. "Are you alright?" She responded with a quick nod as she flew well out of Raiden's range. They would need to make good use of her ranged attacks since the raikou was a grave threat up close. Fortunately, she had both the speed and the diverse moveset to allow them to stay out of his proximity.

"She seemed to shake that one off with relative ease. Leo is going to have a really difficult time taking down such a resilient yet agile foe," Mary said.

"Hear that Leo?" Michael called out. "Sounds like your announcer fans are even starting to doubt you!"

"Let's see how they like this, then - Raiden, use hyper beam!" The electric-type anchored himself into the ground; with an echoing roar that made Michael's hairs stand on end, he expelled a bright white beam from his open mouth. Alaina climbed into the sky, circling the pillar of light effortlessly. Despite the situation, Michael couldn't help but revere the beautiful creature's He kept the beam as close as he could, but all he managed to do was trail her with the powerful attack. Nearly half a minute in, and the raikou's strength began to fade.

"Now's your chance - psywave! Alaina quickly looped, bringing herself into a sharp nosedive as her eyes began to glow. The raikou had to recharge his energy after such a draining attack, leaving him more vulnerable to the incoming wave of light. He stiffened up as it contacted his back, releasing a sharp growl of discomfort and squinting his eyes shut. "Nice shot - hit him again while he's defenseless!" She diverted once more, coming in for a second attack.

"Now - use thunder!" Michael could see the electrical current circulate throughout the raikou's body.

"Get away from him!" She curved upwards, hoping to fly out of the range of the attack. Fast as she was, though, there was no out-speeding electricity. The bright blue bolt overtook her body, and Michael could only watch as his latias fell out of the sky.

"That spells trouble for Higgs' team," Scott said. The crowd went silent as she neared the ground, this time unable to do anything about it.

"Now hit her with crunch!" He intercepted Alaina with a powerful bite, sinking his fangs into her. He shook his head, tossing her limp frame to the side. Two prominent wounds were visible on her upper arm, staining the white segment of her down crimson.

And she wasn't getting up. Raiden silently looked at her, waiting to see if she still had fight in her. _Come on Alaina…_ Her eyes flickered open, and slowly, she levitated, only slightly above the ground. She instinctively clasped her bleeding arm. "Are you alright?" he asked worriedly.

"Y-yeah," she weakly replied.

"I'm surprised you managed to get up after that one," Leo said, directly addressing the latias. "Guess we'll just have to make sure you stay down next time." As he spoke, Michael saw the opportunity.

"Quick - use dragon breath!" She obeyed, covering Raiden in a hazy, blue smokescreen. He closed his eyes to avoid the stinging breath's irritating effects, effectively hindering his sight for the moment. "Now get away and use recover!"

"Like hell you do! Raiden, hit her with thunderbolt!" Alaina flew towards Michael as quickly as she could, and her body started to radiate. The raikou, still under temporary blindness, launched the electrical bolt in her general area. It sailed overhead and to her right, missing its intended target by a rather large margin. Alaina's arm healed, and energy rushed back into her. She grinned as she felt the relief wash over her body, ready to continue the fight against Raiden.

"Dammit!" Leo yelled. He had come close, but now it had all been for naught. Well, not all for naught. Alaina could only do that once every so often.

"It would seem as though Leo has become a bit flustered," Mary said.

"I can see why - for a moment, it looked like he had won. Now he's going to have do it all over again." Raiden escaped the dissipating fog, opening his bloodshot eyes and glaring daggers at the latias. Victory had narrowly escaped his grasp, and he wasn't going to allow it to do so again.

"Shadow ball!"

"Counter it with dragon pulse!" As the shadowy blob closed in on Alaina, she launched her own attack. The two slammed into each other; Alaina's was neutralized completely, while Raiden's was sent off course. "Hit him with psychic!" The raikou found himself lifted into the air as a light blue aura surrounded him.

"Fight it! Use thunder" Raiden blasted through her mental hold on him, cutting through the aura with the scorching shot of electricity. She abandoned the attack, rushing to the opposite side of the field right before the bolt passed through the area she had just occupied. _Well, better not try that again…_ If they did, the results could be far worse than a failed attack. He was uncomfortable with how repetitive their strategy was becoming, but there were no less risky options that came to mind. "Shadow ball - as many as you can!" Leo shouted. Alaina darted through the air, frantically dodging one dangerous shadow after another. Her series of perilous moves had orchestrated an ironically graceful dance as she whirled about every which way.

But it was put to a sharp, brutal halt. Raiden had carefully watched her flight patterns, and had aimed accordingly. "Now! Thunder!" The sharp crack echoed throughout the arena as the sabertooth shot a large, wicked lightning bolt into Alaina.

"Ahhhh!" she wailed as electricity coursed throughout her body. Despite her resistance to the attack, it clearly took a toll on her.

"Alaina!" She couldn't escape; all she could do was try to outlast Raiden. She writhed in place, squiring from the intense pain that overtook her. Raiden's attack began to lose its accuracy, but the damage had been done. She fell from the air once again, and this time, Michael knew that Leo would follow this through until the end.

"Things are looking bleak for the latias," Mary said. "I think this battle has come to an end."

"Damn right it has," Leo said with a smirk. "Hit her off with spark!" Static crackled through the legendary's fur; he charged the falling latias, slamming his entire body into her lithe frame.

The result was the battered latias lying on the ground in front of Michael. Her silky, beautiful down had become tarnished with dirt, and several cuts made their appearance known. Her breathing was slow and steady, and her eyes slowly flickered open. Raiden was far from untouched; no, he looked as though another hit or two could put him in a similar position to Alaina. His mane was unkempt, and it was impossible for him to hide his slight limp. But despite the ferocious beating he had managed to take - both from Ver and Alaina - he was still standing. "Are you alright?" he asked softly.

"I… I will be," she stammered.

"You put up a great fight," he said warmly. He had hoped that they could overcome the odds and defeat the cocky champion, but it appeared that it wasn't going to be so. _Or at least, not this year…_

"Such a bleak conclusion for such a beautiful creature," Scott said, with a hint of disappointment in his voice. "Leo will remain champion for his fifth consecutive year." As the crowd applauded the local celebrity, Michael began to fumble through his pocket in an effort to find Alaina's ball. What he was not expecting was for a widespread mumble to permeate from the audience.

"What's this?" Mary asked in shock. He soon found what their attention was focused upon. Alaina had risen, levitating slowly in place.

"Come on!" Leo yelled. "How many times do I have to beat the same damn pokémon?"

"A…Alaina?"

"I still… have fight in me," she weakly said.

"No you don't," Michael countered. "Screw this battle - I refuse to let you get hurt." He raised her pokéball, but she simply shook her head.

"And I refuse… to give up on you. I will not cave in… you didn't. If you had, I wouldn't be here…" He was touched by her perseverance, but he couldn't in good conscience allow her to continue when she would likely be struck down again. "Please," she said, flashing him a small, reassuring smile. "Please let me do this…" He lowered his hand, slipping her ball back into his pocket, then nodded.

"Alright…" She steadied herself, preparing for one final attempt at bringing the raikou down.

"I spoke too soon - Higgs and the latias aren't through just yet!"

"Raiden, use quick attack!"

"Fly to the side and use mist ball!" She barely managed to avoid the charging raikou before turning around and flinging her signature, pale orb at him. Raiden dug into the ground to avoid slamming into Michael, much to the trainer's appreciation, pivoting around quickly only to be nailed in the hip. His rear leg nearly gave way, but he made sure to hide any signs of weakness or injury, even going so far as to sprint towards her once again. _We've almost got him, Alaina…_ They would have to shut this down quickly; Alaina would not be able to take another hit of any sort.

"Thunderbolt!"

"Psybeam!" Michael quickly followed. She launched the shimmering beam as Raiden halted in his tracks and attempted to deliver a finishing shock to the latias. Raiden's attack made contact with her psybeam, and it wasted no time in cutting through her attack, making its way to Alaina hastily. _Shit… she won't be able to hold that off long…_

"And the two legendaries have come to a standoff!" Mary shouted excitedly. She needed to shake off the incoming attack and respond with one of her own - something that would ensure that Raiden would not get back up. Michael mentally ran through her moveset as quickly as he could. But all he could come up with were moves that Raiden had surely become accustomed to or those that wouldn't serve any better a purpose. They were out of options, out of surprises, and they were sure as hell out of time. _Unless…_ He remembered one final option. _It might just work… no, it has to…_ He only hoped that she was ready.

The static was but a few yards away from her, and would be upon her in seconds. "Say goodnight," Leo said with a laugh. It was now or never.

"Alaina, use draco meteor!" She opened her eyes in shock.

"Wh…what?" She struggled to keep the thunderbolt at bay - a struggle that she was losing. "I d-don't know… if I can… It's only worked… a time or two…"

"It will work," Michael replied. "I know it - you've got what it takes, Alaina." She pushed even harder against the bolt, managing to make it recede ever-so-slightly. Before Raiden knew what had happened, she abandoned her attack altogether, flying over the center of the battlefield. Her eyes glowed a majestic, prominent blue; a vortex formed around Raiden as clusters of small stones rose from the ground, held together by a similarly colored cobalt aura.

"Raiden, stop her with a shadow ball!" As the winds whipped around him, he aimed for the latias overhead. The moment he had shot the shadowy distortion at her, the whirlwind carried it off course, sweeping it away with all the rising debris, which had now began to form into loosely solidified projectiles.

"Oh shi—Raiden, get outta there!" Alaina had several sizable clusters orbiting her wildly. Raiden knew that now he was in very dangerous territory, and he had no intentions of remaining there. Alaina released a shrill cry, letting loose the uncontrollable barrage. The blue meteors wildly bombarded the ground. The sporadic blasts overtook the field, throwing up dirt like the bombs back at the Power Plant. In the midst of it all, Raiden hurdled over the craters of the demolished field, avoiding one brutal projectile after another. _Come on…_ "Finish her off with hyper beam!" The raikou landed, sliding to a stop and readying his final strike. Alaina knew that it was now or never, and without instruction, darted towards him for a closer shot.

"This is it!" Scott shouted over the crowd. Yards away from her opponent, Alaina blasted her final meteor at him as he opened his mouth to release the devastating beam. Raikou yowled out in pain, much to the latias's surprise. The side of his head was lightly bloodied, and the fur had been stripped away. Her shot had met its mark. For a moment, all was silent, the only noise being a light murmur from the crowd. Raiden stood still, not making a single movement.

"R-Raiden! Don't just stand there!" He didn't even look up at his trainer. Rather, the raikou's knees gave way, and he fell on his side. "No!" Leo clenched his fists, in clear disbelief of what had occurred.

"I don't believe it…" Mary trailed off. But the evidence was clear as day, right before their eyes. The referee walked towards the fallen legendary, then shook his head to confirm everyone's thoughts. Michael had to cover his ears in response to the uproar that resounded through the stadium.

"After a shocking turn of events, Higgs and his team have triumphed over previous champion Leo Browning!" Alaina flew back to her trainer, slamming into him with open arms.

"We did it!" she practically yelled as she hugged him tightly.

"Yes," he whispered, returning her embrace, "we did. That was incredible, Alaina." Over her shoulder, Michael could see Leo silently return Raiden into his ball. He grimly looked at it, then flashed Michael a blank look. He turned around, paused for a second, then walked away.

The two of them exited the field, which was already beginning to fill up with people. One of the officials motioned for him before grabbing the crystalline trophy. He nodded at the trainer, handing the cup to him. Michael gripped its cold surface tightly. The silver ring glimmered within it, reading 'Solstice Champion 2032.' Alaina telekinetically lifted it, slipping it over his finger. As he turned around, he faced dozens upon dozens of local reporters, all snapping pictures at every given second. He took her arm, raising their interlocked hands into the air. As the flashes of the cameras filled his vision, only one thought echoed in his mind. _We did it…_

* * *

 **That wraps up this chapter. Again, sorry for the long waiting time - I will do my best to ensure more frequent updates. Until next time, and Happy Easter!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:**

 **Here we are with the sixteenth chapter. It's shorter than most of the other chapters, but definitely not the shortest. However, in terms of content... no, I'm not saying anything.**

 **I don't own pokémon, or any of the franchises associated with this story. All I own are my characters.**

 **As always, special thanks to Lunar Knight Archangel (formerly Archangel2462) for beta reading the chapters, and for helping me improve in terms of grammar/spelling in general, and thanks to Umi x3 for offering pointers for lemon scenes.**

 **If you enjoy reading, please consider leaving a review. I always enjoy your all's feedback.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"Be willing to receive the truth of who someone is, even when it's different than what you hoped it would be."**

 **-Unknown**

* * *

 **Ch. 16 - Darkness Revealed**

A quarter past twelve. The girls cheered inside, and the merry sounds of laughter filled the hotel. Charlotte idly chatted away with Nicole over webcam. Zeke sat at the edge of the bed as he conversed with Layla over the move dark pulse. The celebration was still being broadcasted; the long, difficult year had finally come to a close. Fireworks colored the night sky as the city joined in its excitement, all in anticipation for what 2033 might have in store for them. The atmosphere was vibrant - full of joy, as were all those within it. All except for one.

Michael grasped the rail, staring in disbelief at his phone, which he had dropped on the wooden flooring of the balcony. The screen had cracked, but at the moment, he couldn't care less. The audio that played had struck him to the core. After all the happiness he had experienced these past few weeks, a simple phone call could outweigh everything.

The veil had been lifted; the shadows brought to light. He felt sick to his stomach as the realization slowly set in. He fought it tooth and nail, trying to reject what he had heard - what he was continuing to hear. But as much as he hated it, he gradually came to accept the bitter truth. Razor simply had no reason to lie anymore. Every man _did_ have his breaking point, after all. Endless hours of interrogation and torture could bring even the most refined and organized of criminals to spill. He had been no exception.

An agreement had finally been reached. He would receive a life sentence in the nation's most fortified military prison. Every minute of every day of his life would be dictated by his keepers as punishment for his long list of drug trafficking and cop killing. But, in exchange for the information he had, he would be ensured safety and would be kept out of the electric chair. He agreed to the terms, accepting the fact that he wouldn't be getting any better offers. From that point on, Razor gave it all up. Now he was going on about underground routes, ongoing shipments and storage locations - the likes. But it was what he had started with that made it evident that the conflict was far from over. More than that, it had been closer than any of them had expected. They hadn't known just who they were dealing with.

The sound of the glass door sliding open fell upon deaf ears. "Michael?" Alaina asked curiously. "What's the matter? You've been out here for awhile… I thought you said it would only be a minute…" She came closer to him; he seemed to still be unaware of her presence. "Michael?" Still nothing. The latias noticed his phone and listened in on the recorded conversation. She nodded, likely thinking that she knew all of what was going on. "Oh, so they may have some fight still in them. But don't worry - you all will put an end to them, once and for all. We couldn't realistically expect an entire organization to collapse in under a year, now could we?" She hovered closer to him, placing her hand on his cheek. "M-Michael?"

 **…..**

He opened his eyes, being woken by the creeping sunlight through the windows. Layla was still soundly asleep, her head buried in the crook of his neck. _Still tired after last night, huh?_ He began the painstakingly difficult process of escaping her grip without waking the dozing lucario, having to gently pry her arm from around his own and slide from under her. He silently stepped out of bed after making sure to cover her. He slipped on some clothes before quietly sliding open the door.

The gentle breeze carried the scent of the ocean - a scent Michael had come to enjoy over his time at the resort. The first few groups of people had begun to occupy the coastline, preparing to celebrate New Year's Eve in the comfort of the warm sands. One kid - twelve or thirteen, by the looks of it - grabbed a frisbee from his family's supplies. He was quickly followed by a lycanroc. Michael stood there and watched the two engage in their game for a few minutes before heading back inside.

Layla was sitting up, straightening her matted fur before glancing over at him. "There you are. I was wondering where you went."

"Just stepped outside for a moment. Did I wake you?"

"No - not when you got up, at least. But I couldn't sleep long without my pillow," she giggled.

"Oh, you mean my shoulder?"

"Yep. You're quite comfortable, you know." She tossed the covers aside, then hopped off of the bed. "So, what's the agenda for today?" she asked. Michael mentally ran through what he had planned.

"We're going to have the best New Year's celebration ever! Zeke will be chilling with us, and Samuel and Nicole will be online tonight, too. I was thinking that I'd go out and get some snacks for us all."

"Alright - I'll stay back here, if you don't mind. Ver and I planned to have a duel. I'm gonna use my Christmas present!" Knowing how seriously she took her training, Michael bought her the best thing he could think of in that regard - a power bracer. She couldn't have been happier, and had been excited ever since to put it to use.

"Not a problem at all. Hope you two have a great time - just be careful."

"Of course," she replied. He grabbed his things off of the nightstand - his wallet, his revolver, and his aviators. As he unplugged his phone, he realized that he had received a text last night. _Huh, Thomas._ Michael unlocked his phone, reading over the message.

 _Hey, I'd like to call you in the morning if you don't mind._

 _Well, now would be as good a time as ever._ He walked out to the balcony once again, taking a seat on the small couch and propping his feet up on the table. He scrolled through his contacts and selected Thomas's name, curious as to what his comrade might be troubled about. It only rang for a few seconds before Thomas picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Thomas. You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah… Listen, I wanna thank you for helping out with this whole situation with Ivy. I know I've said some things about these kinds of relationships… things that you probably took offense to… But yet you haven't snapped back or anything…"

"Well, that wouldn't have accomplished anything," Michael responded. "But you're welcome." Thomas said nothing for a moment, and Michael had a suspicion that Thomas had not called only to thank him. "That wasn't the only reason you called, now was it?"

"…No… it wasn't… I uh… I also wanted to thank you for the gift card you se—."

"Thomas…"

"Alright, fine," he relented. "I need advice… one more time…" He sounded unsure of himself. _What have you gotten into, Thomas?_

"That's fine by me. Go on."

"See, last night… I was just sitting there, ya see? Ivy came up and hopped up beside me - she started talking to me. Geared the subject towards us. I didn't say anything; I couldn't for some reason. And then before I knew it, she was getting closer… and I still didn't do anything. She told me…" He cut himself off, clearly too nervous to continue.

"Bud, if you don't tell me, I can't help you," Michael said. "What happened next?"

"…She…uh… she told me that she would show me… She'd make me want to try… Before I knew it, she'd kissed me. I was in shock - Arceus, I didn't know what the hell to do. I froze up… just stood still."

"Really?" Michael had to stifle a laugh - it seemed that Thomas wasn't going to catch a break with the whole situation. Thomas's pride had likely taken a serious blow, and if Samuel ever found out… hell, he would never hear the end of it.

"Yeah… Listen, I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do. I mean, if I let it fly, then she might take that as a green light to go further."

"You're right - she's already acted, so now you need to do something. But I am kinda curious… how long was it?"

"The kiss? Let's see… I'd say… ten seconds?" _Ten? Damn, she had it in for you._

"What did you do?" Michael asked. "Did you try to push her away or anything?"

"I couldn't - she was practically on top of me…"

"Thomas, you're six foot seven and well over three-hundred pounds. I refuse to believe for one second that you couldn't push a seventy pound bayleef off of you." The larger Reaper remained silent, knowing that Michael had a point. "That is, _had_ you wanted to. Did you want to stop her, Thomas? I mean, _ten_ seconds? At that rate… it almost seems to me like you could've been enjoying it."

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me. You were enjoying it, weren't you?"

"I-I don't… I don't know, okay?" Despite having gone to war, his tone was panicky. Deep down, he probably knew it was because he was becoming the very thing that he had previously found repulsing. "I… I just don't know…"

"I think you _do_ know. If you had wanted to shut it down, you could have stopped her. You and I both know that." Michael considered his next words carefully before speaking. "As for advice… why don't you give it a shot? I know the whole thing may seem kinda weird… it isn't exactly common. But once you've tried it out, you kinda stop caring about all that. I mean, what's the harm in it? It's not like you're being _forced_ to do anything. If it's not your thing, then you by no means have to stick with it. All I'm saying is that if a relationship with Ivy piques your interest - and it seems like it does - then try it out." For a moment, not a sound was heard between the two of them, and Michael began to wonder if he had somehow lost connection. Eventually, though, Thomas replied.

"Alright… you've given me a lot to think about. Thanks." With that, he hung up. _Well, I guess that's that._ He walked back inside and shut the door behind him.

After he had finished his preparations, Michael headed next door. The others had gotten up, and the sound of running water could be heard from the bathroom. Ver must have been taking a shower. Elise and Charlotte were lying prone on the bed, watching television. "Hey girls, I'm about to head out for a little while. Gonna buy some stuff for tonight. Anyone wanna come?"

"Our show's on," Charlotte replied. "I think I'll chill here."

"Same," Elise said, flashing him a cute grin.

" Alright, you two just remember to eat, alright?" He took out his wallet, placing several bills on the nightstand. "That should keep you covered for whatever you all decide to do." As he turned to leave, Alaina stopped him.

"Wait up - I'll come with you." She flew to the door, turning to face him.

"Alright. You gonna camouflage?" She titled her head, considering it for a second.

"You know, I think I would prefer to go normally. After that battle, it's not like people don't know by now."

"Yeah, you're probably right. The appearance of two legendaries probably drew some media attention aside from the local channels." He hadn't recently checked, but he was fairly certain that if he looked it up, he would find several articles and pictures of the battle. _Hell, I wonder if dad has found out…_ He hadn't informed his father of Alaina's presence on his team, uncertain as to how he would take to it. Worst case scenario, he may trace the latias to the legendary incident at the Power Plant, and Michael would be unable to hide his profession any longer. But now… now that they had revealed her to the world, there was nothing Michael could do to prevent his father from finding out. All that was keeping him from learning of his son's fifth pokémon was a simple internet search. _But… there's nothing that can be done about that now…_

The two of them boarded the elevator and headed downstairs. _Damn I hope we don't get swarmed,_ Michael thought as they neared the lobby floor. Fortunately, there weren't that many people roaming about. But it didn't take long for those present to recognize them.

"Oh my Arceus," one girl whispered to her boyfriend, her gaze fixed on the legendary. "Look at that…" As they headed for the front entrance, Michael couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with all the eyes piercing into them. Alaina, though, didn't seem fazed in the slightest.

"Lighten up," she said with a smile. "You seem to forget that we practically announced my presence to the entire city with that last battle…"

"That is true," he admitted. But as they exited the building and made their way to the city, Michael was still perturbed with the attention they were receiving, despite having battled in front of tens of thousands just over a week ago. After all, competing with another at such distance from the crowd was much less personal than walking right by people that regarded the two of them with awe. On more than one occasion he had seen people taking pictures with their phones. _Just ignore them, just ignore them…_

Finally reaching the supermarket, he grabbed a shopping cart from the rack before going inside. "Hmm, we'll start with the produce section. If you see anything that you like, grab it," he told her. She nodded, and before long, brought three cases of berries. "Alright, oran - always a good choice… pecha, and… what the hell are those?" He opened the clamshell packaging, taking one of the strange berries out. It was round and had jagged, red and green stripes running along its surface horizontally.

"I don't know what they're called," she said, "but they taste amazing. Every once in awhile, if we were lucky, we could find a bush or two when we roamed Hoenn. Hah, I remember when I was young… maybe thirty seasons old - we settled near Verdanturf for some time. We found a grotto a few miles east of the city that was filled with them. But… one day they cleared that land to build some apartments…"

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that…"

"Yeah, it was very disappointing. A lot of pokémon relied on that grotto for a food source. But at the end of the day, it was the humans that owned the land… They had the right to do what they did - or at least, the _legal_ right. We all just… wished that they hadn't, you know?"

"Yeah," he replied, "I know exactly what you mean." He looked at the package, finally noticing the small label on the side. "Ah, here we are - watmel berries. Were these the only ones they had?" he asked, setting them in the cart.

"Mhm, I think so."

"Oh well. We'll have to keep an eye on them whenever we go out."

Over the course of the next half hour, Michael and Alaina traversed throughout the store, splitting up to cover more ground. He made his way back from the bakery to his latias, carrying several freshly made poképuffs. He found her browsing the chip aisle in front of a speechless woman with her child. Alaina turned to face the little girl as she approached her. "Mommy," she asked endearingly, "can I pet her?"

"I-I don't think that's a good idea…" Alaina lowered herself level to the girl.

"Of course you can, little one," she replied gently. The legendary hummed softly, smiling as the girl ran her hands along her neck. "See? I don't bite," she jokingly said to the woman, who stood quietly.

"She… just spoke…" the mother said.

"That band around her neck is a translator," Michael said. "Pretty convenient, wouldn't you say?" She nodded, watching as her daughter affectionately rubbed the legendary.

"Mind if I take a picture?" she eventually asked. "One day, she'll be able to look back… and realize just who she met…" Michael looked at his latias, who tilted her head questioningly. He shrugged.

"I don't see why not - are you alright with it, Alaina?"

"Sure." The woman took out her phone, aiming it at there daughter, who had wrapped her arms around the base of Alaina's neck. "Smile for the camera, sweetie!"

 **…..**

A knock on the door snapped Michael back to attention. _Just in time_. He and Ver had finished moving the beds to the side, while the others had set out the various snacks on the desk. The balcony doors were wide open, letting the gentle breeze flow in and showcasing the beauteous, colorful display in the night sky. "It's open!" he called out. Zeke wasted no time in walking inside.

"Well damn - looks like you've set out quite a spread."

"Yeah," Michael chuckled, "we always go all out for the holidays. Glad you could join us."

"Wouldn't miss it." He cast a glance to the overly loud television. The news channel was on, showing the parade through the streets of Goldenrod. Blaring lights occupied every aspect of the screen. The city was alive; the people were even more so. Floats were being driven through the blocks, eventually coming to a halt around the large, bright tower in the central plaza. The time - 7:42 - was displayed prominently in red, digital letters in the center. At midnight, the ball at the top would descend, signaling the passing of another year. "So… got any New Year's resolutions?" the zoroark asked to no one in particular.

"None that would be appropriate to say," Layla replied. _Arceus, Layla,_ Michael thought shaking his head. _We're all adults here, but seriously…_

"Well, you just keep those to yourself in that case. Anyone else?"

"Yeah, I've got one," Ver said. "I'd like to go on more missions." Michael looked over at her, visibly unamused.

"No," he simply stated. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"What do you mean 'no?' I'm perfectly qualified, and—."

"I know you are," Michael interrupted. "I know. But it's not going to happen. Not again."

"Oh? Who says?" she asked, slightly challengingly. Michael decided to take her up on that challenge.

" _I_ say."

"And why is that?" Her voice now came out in an irritated growl. But Michael wasn't intimidated in the slightest, nor was he backing down.

"Because… well, let's put it this way. That night at the Power Plant, were you looking down? Did you see what happens to a flygon when they get hit with the very weapons that _we_ made?"

"No… I was too busy keeping myself alive," she retorted.

"Oh, alright, in that case, I'll _tell_ you what happens - you get blown into pieces! Back there… I thought that _was_ you. It tore me apart, and…" he paused, having to keep himself form tearing up. "…I can't lose you, Ver. I can't…" The large dragoness placed her hand on his shoulder.

"So then you might just know how we all feel…" She pulled him in and embraced him, encasing his smaller frame with her larger one. "Every day that you go out there… we all wonder if it will be your last." She craned her neck downwards, looking him dead in the eyes. "And you coming back with your arm all shredded to pieces, or all beaten up and worn out, or with bullets in shrapnel in your chest… all of that shit doesn't put those thoughts to rest." Her tone then changed to a much softer one. "But yet we let you do it… because you signed up for it. Arceus knows why, but you did. It would only be fair to let me do what _I_ signed up for. And you know that." Much to his annoyance, she was right - he did know. And doing everything he could to keep her off the field presented a double standard. But, despite the hypocrisy involved, it was a double standard that he would fight as hard as he could to defend; it was a standard that would keep her from harm, and would keep her from doing the things he had done - killed people.

"Dammit Ver… I _do_ know… I know it's not fair to set a different standard." He sighed, patting her on the chest. "…I know…" For a moment, no one said anything. It just seemed as though it would be completely out of place _to_ say anything. But Zeke never had a problem with that…

"Aww, come on - this isn't the time for mushy shit like this - we've got a party to start! All of this can wait till some other time…" Michael rolled his eyes - leave it to Zeke to ruin a heartfelt moment. But in a way, he was right. He and Ver could debate this some other time.

"Yeah, alright," he laughed. Ver let go of him, but not before giving him a swift lick to the cheek. "Well, we sure as hell didn't put out all this food for nothing…"

The night carried on, and gradually, the store of food on the table was depleted. The clock struck ten, and Michael remembered an earlier proposition. _Almost forgot…_ Going to side of the room, he retrieved his laptop from underneath the nightstand. "What're you doing?" Charlotte asked as the home screen loaded.

"Sam and I planned to video chat. What do you say to that?"

"Heh, it's been a few days since I talked with Nicole. I'd love to!" Michael sent the request, which was granted a few seconds later. The sniper appeared on the screen, alongside his golden fox.

"Hey man, how's it going back there in Azalea?"

"Can't complain," he said with a smile. "Weather's a bit chillier than usual, but luckily I've got myself a nice fire fox that is just _perfect_ for keeping the cold away." Nicole nuzzled under his chin.

"That's not _all_ I'm good for," she said with mock annoyance.

"Oh trust me, I know," he joked, before returning his attention to Michael. "By the way, thanks for the Ruger - I can finally make use of my concealed carry permit," he laughed.

"Not a problem at all. Glad you enjoyed it."

"And we've already made use of the brush you got for Nicole."

"Mhm, it feels _amazing_. Really gets all the tangles out."

"But the tails are still a pain in the ass to deal with," Samuel said.

"Oh tell me about it," Charlotte added, "See there was this one time - a couple months ago - Michael was helping me comb my fur after the shower. He made it down to my tail, and the brush got stuck! It was so tangled, that we had to cut it out!" She continued her recollection of the event, effectively isolating both of the males from the conversation in a humorous manner. Not that they were surprised - their video chats were generally more of a discussion between the two foxes than between the two Reapers. Samuel got up, excusing himself from the conversation in order to take a shower, knowing that Nicole and Charlotte were going to dominate the screen for the next half hour or so. Michael rubbed Charlotte's head before similarly leaving the picture.

Midnight drew near; the final day of the year was coming to a close. The shrill cries of the fireworks outside increased in their frequency, and those in Goldenrod became even more energetic. The ball was about to drop. In the last moments of 2032, Michael reflected on how far he had come over the past year. Despite his scholarly background, he had become operational in one of the most elite special forces units throughout all the regions, and in his first tour of duty, had already become a renown war hero. But the feat that he was most proud of was how far he had come with the girls. His former best friends had become so much more to him; the very pokémon that lived with him, had been his sole reason for living, had enriched his life exponentially.

The past year had come with a lot of stress, too. In the heat of battle, anything could happen. Maybe one of the hundreds of bullets that drew through the air over the course of the firefight could have his name on it. There was no way to predict which way shrapnel would fly after an explosion, or if he might get flanked from an unseen enemy, or even if they were heading into a trap. It wasn't the threat of danger that terrified him, but rather the uncertainty of it. But at the end of every mission, he would come home to them - the girls that made it all worth it. To know that, after all the violence, they would be there to comfort him - to make it all just go away - and that what they did saved the lives of innocent people, he could honestly say that at the end of the day, stressful and daunting as it being a Reaper may be, it was completely worth it.

Alaina gripped his hand tightly, bringing him back to reality. Everyone focused on the television, as the clock in the center of the tower began to flash. A sixty second timer quickly took its place and immediately began counting down. "This is it," the latias whispered to him. "Almost there!"

"Yep, almost," he said with a smile. Despite the hardships, he could say without a doubt that the past year had been the greatest of his life. And with the girls by his side, he had high hopes for whatever may come next.

The timer hit ten, and Charlotte began the countdown. "Ten… nine… eight…" The others laughed, then joined the braixen. "Seven… six… five… four… three… two… one!" The ball dropped; confetti was launched over the tens of thousands of cheering people.

"Happy New Year!" the news anchorman said happily. Alaina drew him into a gentle kiss - nothing too intense, so as not to put off Zeke, but enough to get the sweet message across. At that time, with everyone caught up in the bliss of the moment, everything was perfect. Everything that he could have wanted.

But then the phone had to ring. Michael was confused - who would call at this time? Certainly couldn't be Samuel, or Thomas - he was likely far too caught up in his dilemma with Ivy to be celebrating. He withdrew his phone from his pocket. _What the hell? Why is the Commander calling at a time like this?_ He stood up and answered the phone.

"Hey Commander, how's it going? Enjoying yourself?" He said nothing for a moment, but eventually responded.

"Higgs… no… _Michael_ … This last day has been anything but enjoyable for me…" The melancholy in his voice caught Michael off guard.

"Wha— why? Is something wrong?" How could someone be miserable on this day? Especially when the rest of the country seemed to be so festive…

"That… that would be an understatement, son… We've gained new intel, and…" he sighed. "I've been debating whether or not to inform you as to what's going on."

"Inform me? About what?"

"…Are you alone right now?"

"No," Michael replied, "Zeke and the girls are all here. Why?"

"Step outside for a moment." He did as told, heading towards the balcony.

"Michael? What are you doing?" Alaina asked.

"Don't worry - this should only take a minute or so." With that, he made his way to the balcony, sliding the door shut behind him. "Alright, I'm alone now. What's up?"

"Son… I hate to be the bearer of bad news - especially at a time like this…" He paused, audibly uncertain in how to continue. "You're gonna find out - soon. I'm going to leave it up to you whether or not you learn now or when you get back… I know you all are on vacation. Arceus knows you deserve it. But if I send you this… well, it's going to ruin that for you…" He was alarmed upon hearing this. _What? What could he possibly be talking about? Something that bad…_ If, whatever it was, it could ruin his time with the girls, then he wanted no part in it. But yet as much as he wanted to throw the whole prospect away, he knew that he couldn't deal with such a dreadful anticipation, all while trying to pretend that some terrifying realization was not about to come to him. _I guess… it's better to get it over with._ Unless Wesley was exaggerating - which he doubted - then his vacation would be ruined regardless.

"Okay… lay it on me. Let's get this over with…"

"You remember… that gang that you and the others took out?" Wesley started.

"Yeah - Razor, wasn't it? Him and his band of cop-killing thugs…"

"Yes," Wesley replied, "those guys. Well, Razor… he finally spilled."

"He did?" That, definitely, was good news.

"Yeah, he did. Nikolai… he's worked for us for years now. Always has come through. Razor sure gave us hell - put up a real fight - but he never stood a chance against Nikolai… A few months in, and he got Razor singing like a canary."

"Alright," Michael said, "but I fail to see how—."

"It's _what_ he said, Michael…" _What the hell did he say then?_ "I'm sending you the recording now. I can't imagine, what it must be like… Son, I'm so sorry…" The call was ended, much to Michael's concern. As he pondered what could be going on, the audio recording was texted to him. His finger hovered over the play button before hesitantly tapping it. The date and time displayed - 8:47, December 30, 2032. _Huh, so this interview was done last night…_ A light crackle, and then voices.

"So I've heard that you are finally willing to cooperate," the interrogator stated. _That's Nikolai…_ "You lasted longer than most - that's for sure. Tell me, what was it that finally broke through? I imagine you grew used to the electricity. Was it the beatings? Or maybe the sleep deprivation. I know that must get old real quick."

"What the fuck does it matter?" Razor finally said. His voice sounded raspier than Michael remembered it, as though his vocal cords had been torn apart from countless hours of yelling from pain.

"Oh, it doesn't. Perhaps it's my own morbid curiosity. But you're right - let's get on with this. You are ready to talk, no?"

"I want to know that you assholes are gonna hold up to your end of the deal. How do I know you all won't just fuck me over after I've talked?" A screech sound as a chair was pushed back; Nikolai must have gotten up, further suggested by the pacing around the room.

"I know that these past few months have been… well, _difficult_ , for you - to say the least. You're used to dealing with crooks - people that are equally as shitty as you are. But we do not lie. We hold up to our promises. So again, here's what you're going to get. Life imprisonment over in our Whirl Islands Military Prison. Nothing less for someone of your record. Every moment of every day, there will be guards and cameras watching you. Your whole life will be controlled - you won't even be able to take a piss without clearance and without a rifle pointed at you. And if you somehow manage to escape - Arceus knows how _that_ would be possible - you will have nowhere to go. _But_ … you will be kept out of the chair, and more importantly, your boss will not be able to reach you. That was your main concern, was it not?"

"Yeah… it is…"

"Great. So then we have a deal?"

"We…" Razor relented with a sigh, "yeah, we have a deal…"

"In that case, I'm all ears."

"Fine. Where should I start?" the former gang leader asked.

"How about the leadership of all this shit? Our forces have taken complex after complex, capped thousands of grunts, and shut down countless trade routes, and yet no matter who interrogate, no one seems to have any clue about who's in charge."

"They're good at it, aren't they?" Razor mused. "Those fuckers really know how to stay anonymous."

"You say that as though you weren't one of them…" Nikolai stated confusedly.

"I wasn't - we weren't paid to run shit, we were hired out occasionally to move product from point A to point B. Really made payday a bitch - never knew who the fuck to go to. Sometimes it would take weeks. But hell, it was worth every bit of it."

"Worth killing cops?"

"Only those that interfered. Should've left us alone. They paid well; often times a single heist would give us twenty-five or more each."

"Twenty-five hundred? For a heist that might take a couple of hours?"

"Twenty-five _thousand_ \- often times more. They weren't poor by any means. Think about it - do you know how much a bad of crystal will sell for on the street?" Razor replied. "But, again, it was hard to track down. Truth be told, they were good at keeping everything secretive because they knew to stay out of the system. Made it harder for the grunts to know what the fuck was going on… but made it easier for those in charge to avoid you all."  
"What do you mean 'stay out of the system?'" Nikolai asked.

"Think about it - if it's digital, it's visible. Had they put personal information on a computer and sent it off, you would've caught 'em by now. They do their shit by paper - codes, aliases, you name it. And they hardly ever do things the same way twice. Hell, you all probably thought that you've busted up their game plan, didn't you? Just because you take out a dozen or so product routes, they're down for the count, right?"

"Go on…"

"You all have made it harder. You've killed off a lot of their people, taken a bunch of their shit… But you've only shut them down for the time being." _No… they… aren't down yet?_

"What?"

"In all my time working for them, I almost never used the same route twice. If I did, it was a few days apart. A couple of months later, and we'd never use it again. You haven't shut down anything - you took out a few paths that they'd probably abandon anyways."

"Well fuck, that's just great," Nikolai said. "So all of the routes that we've shut down…"

" _Everything_ that you all have done - even all the bases you've destroyed - can be recovered in a matter of years. Scars fade." _Oh Arceus… tell me he's bullshitting us…_

"Then we will just have to cut off the head of the snake. Who all do you know within their upper ranks? You said that they've kept to themselves well… but you have to know at least a few of your employers."

"No," Razor replied, "only one."

"Shit, that's just perfect," he said in frustration. "Why the hell is one name worth all the strings we'll have to pull to keep your ass from the death penalty?"

"Because my employer is the second in command." _Oh, that's pretty helpful._

"Alright," the interrogator said, the surprise audible in his voice. "Now you've got my attention. Who is he?"

"He's gone by several names and titles over the years - he's generally referred to as the Accountant - but I know his real name. He manages all the money, and his algorithms are what determines how everything gets switched around. He's brilliant; overseeing all the routes, the products - even the clean money."

"Clean money?"

"This organization - this nameless group - they've got a say in more markets than just drugs and trafficking. Stocks and bonds located around the world in offshore accounts, traceable only back to figments of his imagination. My friends and I… when we were running drugs on our own… well, we got caught. We'd evaded the cops time and time again, and they couldn't do shit. We knew where to go, too - Kanto's got some real shitty law enforcement. But one day, we were set up, and before we could do anything, we got surrounded. But he… he'd kept an eye on us. He was impressed with our work, and somehow, he pulled strings and turned a thirty year sentence into a couple months."

"Kanto is crooked as hell…"

"He had the money - money which politicians wanted. That led to retrials, which led to parole... When we got out, he was there. Made sure that we knew what he did… and that there was so much more in store for us. He had plans for us, and the resources to make us all rich. We couldn't refuse - not that we would have, anyways."

The conversation had been going on for over ten minutes now. Michael looked inside the room, seeing that Charlotte had resumed her conversation with Nicole. _Damn babe, this has been the longest one yet…_ Off to the side, Zeke and Layla were talking about something, though he couldn't hear what. Then, the zoroark formed a dark, shadowy sphere between his hands, holding it there for a moment before harmlessly crushing it into nothingness. _Must be trying to teach her dark pulse,_ he mused. _Zeke, I swear to Arceus, if you tear up the room…_ Nikolai spoke up again, forcing Michael to switch his attention back to the recording.

"You've made it clear that we're dealing with someone that really knows what they're doing. But you haven't told us who it is - who this so called "Accountant" is." Razor said nothing, as though he were reconsidering the whole thing.

"Everything you all have done to me… it would pale in comparison to what _he_ would do to me. He'd have me killed for what I've said so far, but if reveal his name… shit, it would last for days. That's not something I'm willing to risk without a guarantee…" _Great,_ Michael mused, _back to this again…_

"Are you serious?!" Nikolai yelled. "We've already been over this shit!" At this point, a door could be heard opening faintly. Another set of footsteps approached, probably to ensure that Nikolai didn't attack Razor.

"You don't have a thing to worry about," said a familiar voice. "My name is Wesley Hawkins - commander of the Twenty-fifth Reaper Regiment. It was my boys that took you and your gang out. If you proceed, I will personally vouch for you and your safety. We get what we want - every damn time. You have my word that no harm will come to you _or_ the others. Am I understood?"

"Y…yes," Razor said quietly.

"Good. Now that that's settled, please continue." Michael didn't hear the footsteps walk away; Wesley must have been staying right there.

"Who is the Accountant?" Nikolai asked. For a moment, nothing could be heard from any of the three men, much to Nikolai's growing impatience. "I asked you a question!"

"Cool it," Wesley snapped. If they angered Razor, they may make it more difficult to pry the information out of him. And if what he was saying was true, then they had no time to waste. "Who is he?" he asked in a much calmer demeanor.

"His name…" Razor responded weakly, "the Accountant's name… is… Ethan Higgs…"

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Well, the plot thickens... See you all next time! Please consider leaving a review if you enjoyed reading!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:**

 **Alright, so this one really _is_ the shortest chapter. I dislike posting something that is only 3.5 - 4,000 words, but I start/end chapters based on the events that happen - which is why the tournament chapter was well over 18,000 words. Sorry, but a smaller chapter was necessary here due to a transition in the plot - a transition that you all are probably aware of due to the last chapter. Anyways, enjoy reading, and know that, by the time you've read this, I'm hard at work on the next one.**

 **I don't own pokémon, or any of the franchises associated with this story. All I own are my characters.**

 **As always, special thanks to Lunar Knight Archangel for beta reading the chapters, and for helping me improve in terms of grammar/spelling in general, and thanks to Umi x3 for offering pointers for lemon scenes and plot stuff.**

 **Again, I would also like to thank each and every one of you readers. This story has almost reached triple digits across the board - reviews, favorites, and followers. Also, we are getting close to 20,000 views. None of this would have ben possible without you all, so thank you for supporting this story.**

 **If you enjoy reading, please consider leaving a review. I always enjoy your all's feedback.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"Everything that you are going through is preparing you for what you asked for."**

 **-Unknown**

* * *

 **Ch. 17 - Preparing for the Storm**

He couldn't do it any longer. The broken Reaper had tried - really, he had - to continue on, but the resort that had given him so many wonderful memories now only served as a luxurious prison. Now what he needed was to get back - back to the people that could help him, and maybe shed some light on the whole situation.

Michael stood in the lounge, waiting for the others to finish eating their final meal at the resort before they caught the next flight for Blackthorn; that is, provided that Wesley had processed his last-minute travel request and granted him clearance. It would be no use in him even being in the cafeteria - there wasn't any way he'd be able to stomach food, nor tolerate the noisy atmosphere around them. All he wanted was to wait in silence, away from everything.

The Commander had been right - the news had crushed his very soul, completely ruining any chance of him continuing his carefree, lighthearted vacation. He had hardly uttered a word since the night before, aside from requesting a refund for all the time that he would no longer be spending at the resort. One thing had gone well - the staff had been kind enough to return the money to his account.

His girls tried to comfort him, tried to tell him that everything would be alright. As though they weren't worried themselves. In some sickening sense of irony, their mate had been risking his life to destroy the very creation of his own father. Part of him still doubted what he had heard earlier; despite the overwhelming evidence that Razor had presented - trade routes, dates, and even bits and pieces of the algorithm - Michael still hoped that somehow, it was all a misunderstanding. Michael and his father… well, he knew that their relationship could be better, to say the least. After all, he, similarly to Alex, lacked what many others had growing up. Whereas others came home from school and were able to talk about their day with their parents over dinner, Michael was restricted to video chatting. As frequent as he had done this, though, it couldn't replace the real thing, and soon, he became more detached from his own parents.

But that didn't mean that this realization had been painless. How could the very person - the man who had hypocritically talked to him of morality - use his skills for such business? Hell, the same days that he was instilling religious values within his son, Ethan Higgs was selling people's bodies. As despicable as the drug market was, or the selling of illegal weapons, these stood nothing against human trafficking; _that_ was a special sort of evil on its own. The very evil that he had signed up to put an end to. But yet the organizer of this evil… no, he couldn't bear to think about it. He needed to know for sure, which was why he was going back.

A vibration from his pocket; his phone was ringing. The call he had been waiting for. He took it out without looking and accepted the call. "Am I good to go?" he asked emotionlessly.

"Yeah, as long as you head straight back here." No surprise there; the Reapers couldn't simply travel wherever the hell they wanted without telling someone. It was one of the rights they had forfeited. "There'll be a helicopter waiting for you at the airport. You are to head straight there upon arriving."

"Alright." He hung up at that point; he'd heard what he needed to hear. All of their luggage fit within the two duffel bags and backpack they had brought it in, ready to be taken to the airport. The sounds of approaching footsteps registered to him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"You girls ready?" he asked. His tone was flat; the usual happiness that he exuded was now gone. They nodded, but nobody said a word. Silence was going to be prominent for awhile. He returned four of them to their balls; before he could do the same for Alaina, she closed the distance between the two of them, giving him a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "What you're going through… is something that no one should ever have to deal with…" For a moment, he simply stood there, but eventually he returned her embrace, albeit weakly.

 **…..**

He tossed his bags onto the shelves overhead, taking his seat by the window. Michael couldn't help but stare at one particular item within his luggage. The locked, black case that contained his Smith - the very gun that his dad had given him.

The door shut, and pretty soon, the powerful engines whirred to life. Fortunately, there weren't many people on board the flight, giving him a calm enough atmosphere to run over his troubled thoughts. _All this time… was I really fighting my own father?_ It hurt even to think that the answer to that question might be yes. _How could he?_ The very thought of trafficking and drugs flowing through his family sickened him. And to think, that the very money that may have been gained off of selling young girls into sex slavery could very well have paid for his education…

"Come on man," Zeke said, placing his hand on Michael's shoulder, "it ain't good for you to bottle it all up. Talk about it - I'm here." He appreciated the fact that the zoroark had also prematurely ended his own vacation to be there for his friend; the gesture served to remind Michael that, aside from his girls, there were people he could trust to always be there for him. He figured that he owed that much to Zeke to voice his thoughts on the matter at hand.

"I don't… I don't know what to say," Michael said quietly. "I feel betrayed… disgusted… and pissed the fuck off. H-how could he? My own fucking father…" Zeke stayed silent, listening to Michael vent his frustration. "I swear to Arceus, Razor better have been lying when he said all that shit."

"Michael… I think we both know…" He didn't need to finish; they both _did_ know. But there was at least a chance, right? Razor was a criminal - he had no morals and values. Or at least, only a few. He wouldn't think twice about ruining the lives of others for his own personal gain. After all, he had done that throughout his career. But he would tell the truth if he had something to gain from it. And this time, he _did_ have something to gain, or rather, something to keep - his life. And to top it all off, Michael knew Commander Hawkins well enough to know that he wouldn't needlessly cause him all this worry without tirelessly checking the validity of the newly gained information. As soon as Wesley had informed him, they were likely certain that Ethan Higgs was in fact a ringleader in the organization that they had fought to demolish.

"…I still need to be sure. I need to know for myself." He paused for a moment, reflecting on what he had done as a Reaper to the traffickers that they encountered, the people that were involved in this sort of market. The answer was simple and brutal - they killed them on sight. The less of them alive, the better. Giovani was right in his statement - some of them very well could change their ways, but that would require years of therapy and millions in taxpayers' dollars, as well as the capture of the criminals rather than the immediate disposal of them. But they couldn't even remotely pretend to stand for what was right if they risked dozens upon dozens of innocent lives in order to save one criminal. All of this led him to one single though: Could he do the very same thing to his father? It would be inconsistent with his previous actions and ideals if he couldn't… "What do you think's gonna happen, Zeke?" The zoroark stared at him for a moment before responding.

"Do you want the truth?" No, he didn't _want_ the truth… but he needed it.

"Yes."

"You know very well what's gonna happen. Their gonna take him in, and he'll never see the light of day again…" And as far as the house... The house would probably be stripped down to the very foundations; surely there must be a plethora of crucial information within those walls.

"So I guess that's just it then," Michael said. "Everything's gone now…"

"No," Zeke quickly responded, "you're wrong about that. You've got all of us - your pokémon, the Reapers, and me. If we aren't your family, I don't know who is." Michael nodded in understanding.

"Thanks Zeke. That means a lot." Though he was far from content, it did help to know that he had such supportive friends. He laid his seat back as the plane began to take off; maybe, with any luck, he would be able to catch up on some much needed sleep.

 **…..**

The helicopter began its decent within the white, northern mountains. The setting sun caused for the large, automatic gate to reflect a shimmer of light in the midst of the snow-covered peaks. It had seemed like years since he and the girls had stepped foot here. _So much has happened since then…_ As they drew close to the landing pad on top, the familiar steelix was visible, coiled up in front of the entrance in the very same spot that Michael had remembered months ago.

They landed, softly touching the ground as the rotor overhead died down. The Commander was waiting for them at the edge of the helipad, and approached the helicopter as the door opened. Michael stepped out, and was immediately met with the stinging cold - a very unwelcome change, considering they had just left the beaches of Cianwood. _Well, at least Elise will enjoy it here…_ "Come on - inside." Michael released the girls, and they all followed Wesley.

Once they were inside the colossal mountain base, he was led to the debriefing room, to which the girls waited outside. Wesley took a seat at the end of the table, motioning for Michael to do the same. A lone, vanilla folder sat at the edge. "No doubt you've come here to talk this over," the Commander started. "What do you wanna know?"

"You've looked into this, right? Is it all true?" Wesley sighed.

"The day that Razor spilled, our intelligence was all over your father. I mean, of course they'd be - for all we knew, this was the guy responsible for a lot of the shit we've been fighting against."

"And? What'd you find?"

"We watched him for a full day - New Years Eve. Your father… he's a busy man, that's for sure. Collected mail from four post offices. Upon gaining access to their security footage, we learned that he had a different name for each one. That raised some questions. Before he could head back to his house, we had sent a guy to check things out. Went through his office and took some pictures." He opened the folder, took a single picture out, and slid it to Michael.

"A map?" It was of a large, stretched out map of Kanto on the wall. It had lines drawn across it, and Michael recognized the trigonometry being worked out on the side. Small, barely legible handwriting could be found over the entire paper. Some pins here and there, as well as a few dark, bolded lines. Some through forests, some through grasslands…

"This map… contains all of the routes that we've discovered the past several months…" He took out another photo, setting it right beside the first. The last shred of doubt within Michael had been stripped away. The two maps, aside from his father's notes, were an identical match. "And these," he continued, "are files that we recovered from the Power Plant." It was a monthly budget sheet, with figures paired with various different expenditures. At the very bottom was a short note. _The deal has been made with Wilkins. He's assured us that public eyes will be kept away from the Plant for the next few weeks. You should be in the clear. Go on and proceed with the draining procedure. -The Accountant._ Ethan Higgs had been doing business with the very people that had nearly killed his own son's mate, as well as several other legendaries.

"Well… shit…" he muttered defeatedly.

"I'm sorry son, but we can't wait around any longer. You of all people understand that."

"Yeah…" The fact that people were being sold meant that they had to move quickly. "When are you gonna do it?"

"We'll be sending a member of the Twenty-third in there to subdue him." Immediately, a request sprung up within Michael. He wouldn't be able to leave without asking.

"Let me be the one," he said. Wesley seemed shocked to hear this, but shook his head.

"No, that wouldn't be a good idea. This is too much of a personal matter for you."

"Damn right it's personal - he's my _father_."

"Which is why it wouldn't be professional. I couldn't expect you to carry out your duties as normal."

"My very first mission - that was a personal one for me. That was the very man I had signed up for. If I did what needed to be done then, then I can do it now." For a moment, Wesley said nothing, clearly thinking over the proposition. It definitely wouldn't be easy to cancel a mission from another Commander at the last minute. "See, he's already expecting me to come over. Maybe a little bit later, but… we don't have time, as you said. But most of all… this is my fight. I need to be the one to talk to him - to bring him in."

"Alright," Wesley relented. "I'll have to pull a few strings, but I think I'll be able to do it. Be ready to engage tomorrow."

 **…..**

Tomorrow… He would confront the man that had been responsible for so much suffering. It crushed his very soul to consider how many lives had been utterly ruined thanks to his own father. But yet he couldn't make sense of it all. Why would he do such a thing? Most criminals were in such a business for the same reason that Razor had admitted to - money. But Ethan Higgs, despite his fortune, didn't give money a second thought. It meant nothing to him. So what other reason could there possibly be for engaging in this sort of market? It just didn't make sense. Whatever the reason was, he would find out tomorrow.

At the moment, he sat on the couch within his quarters, contemplating what may come of tomorrow's rather grotesque reunion. The plan was relatively simple - Michael would show up in a standard army uniform, wearing a body camera discreetly in place of one of the buttons. He would try to get his father away from the house so that he would not have the chance to destroy any evidence; shortly after Ethan Higgs was apprehended, soldiers would quarantine the neighborhood and the house would be searched for intel.

He felt something brush into his leg. Elise looked up at him questioningly, to which he patted the spot beside him. She hopped up, and it wasn't long before the others joined them. "Well? What'd you learn?" Layla asked.

"My father…" he sighed, "well, it was all true. Even worse than I was hoping. He's running the show, it seems like. Hawkins showed me some documents that they recovered from the Plant. He… he was the one that administered the draining that almost killed you, Alaina…" The latias's eyes went wide in shock, but she quickly composed herself.

"Well… it turned out for the best, I guess," she muttered, before flashing him a small smile. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have met you…"

"Thanks, love." Her gentle words always seem to be just what he needed to hear. Most of all, he was glad to hear that, despite what his own kin had done to her and other legendaries, she held nothing against him. "But still… he needs to be dealt with. That's why I'm going over tomorrow to get him."

"Even though he's your father, you're still going to take him on?" Charlotte asked.

"…It's for that very reason that I need to."

"Well whatever happens… whatever goes down, we will _always_ be here for you," Charlotte stated.

"Now," Alaina said, "enough of all this. You're going to need all the rest you can get. But before that, we are going to the cafeteria. You haven't eaten anything all day, and I'm not letting you settle down until you have."

She stood by her word, too. The latias had stayed practically glued to his side, making sure that he got what she considered adequate. Almost as though he was a child. He couldn't help but laugh at the treatment he was receiving, which was good - at this time, a little humor would serve him well. Especially considering what was about to come.

 **…..**

Michael stepped out of the SWAT van, with Wesley and the girls staying inside. They were parked a couple of blocks away from the house, concealed within the nearby woods. A screen on one of the several computers lining the inside displayed the footage from the camera hidden on him - they would be watching every move. A single earpiece was concealed within his left ear; the Commander had agreed to stay silent for out of the mission, only speaking if completely necessary. In his left pocket, a set of cuffs rattled slightly every time he moved.

The Commander offered him a pistol - a compact Beretta 92. "No thanks," he said, tapping the revolver holstered to his side. "I've got this one covered. It won't have to come to anything like that anyways. And if push comes to shove, I can take him."

"Alright," Wesley said. "Keep in mind that there will also be reinforcements nearby. It won't take them long to get to you, worst case scenario." The worst case scenario was far from what they needed, though.

With his final preparations having been made, Michael was ready to go. Alaina drifted over to him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. "Be careful, alright?"

"I'll do my best." He ran his hand along her neck, relishing the feeling of his fingers coursing through her silky down. "With any luck… I'll be bringing him back here…" He took a last look at his girls, who were silent as they stared back at him. Flashing them a forced smile, he shut the doors of the van. He straightened the collar of his fake uniform and headed on his way.

Wild cherry trees and faintly familiar houses stretched along the path to his former house, everything affected by the touch of winter. Thin layers of snow crunched under his feet as he trudged towards his destination. Despite the frigid air, though, the cold didn't register to him.

The large, gray Silverado was not present in the driveway. _He might not be home._ A single look at the house dismissed that idea - light could be seen from the window on the far right side of the house. The office. _Well, I guess that answers that. Mom must've taken the truck..._ Slowly, Michael walked towards the door. What was in reality a few yards seemed at that moment to stretch out into miles. _Come on Michael, you've got this… You've taken on swarms of enemies before… This is one guy we're talking about. One man…_

If only it were so. All the others had been targets. Random enemies - to him, without names, sometimes even without faces. But not this time. He stood in front of the door to a now unfamiliar house. It was time. He had to overcome his hesitation and do what needed to be done. With a deep breath, he knocked on the door. A quick glance to the side - a ruffle in the blinds of the office room. He could hear the faint sound of footsteps grow louder as he instinctively tapped his revolver. _Easy now…_ A click, followed by a second of silence. The door opened, revealing none other than the man himself.

"Hello son."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **That sums up this shorter-than-usual entry. As always, your feedback is greatly appreciated, so please consider leaving a review to voice your thoughts if you enjoyed reading.**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:**

 **Here it comes. In the first chapter, I did warn that things would get political in this story. Now I'm not one for "trigger warnings" at all, however, this chapter strikes a bit hard. Some things might come across as upsetting to some people, and that was not my intention if that is how it is perceived. Without giving away spoilers, I will say this: _please_ keep in mind who the villain is. Just because I did type all of this up does not mean that anything here reflects my personal views. Like, at all. **

**I still do not own pokémon or any of the companies in this story.**

 **Thanks to both** **Lunar Knight Archangel and Lamosamo67 for giving suggestions about this chapter.**

 **If you enjoy reading, please consider leaving a review. I always enjoy your all's feedback.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"Savage, despicable evil. That's what we were fighting in Iraq. That's why a lot of people, myself included, called the enemy 'savages.' There really was no other way to describe what we encountered there."**

 **-Chris Kyle**

* * *

 **Ch. 18 - Confrontation**

"H-hey dad…" His father wasted no time in embracing him, making Michael feel more than a little awkward. Hesitantly, though, he returned the gesture.

"What brings you over here so early? I thought you weren't headed here for at least a few more weeks." His voice possessed both authority and smoothness. One never would have thought that he did what he did.

"…The girls and I got tired of it. Thought we might head over here a bit earlier."

"Ah, alright." He stepped aside, holding the door open. "Well, you gonna stand there, or are we gonna head inside and catch up about the past year?" This was his only chance to divert Ethan from the house.

"Yeah, about that - I was thinking that we might actually take a walk. It'd give us plenty of time to talk…" His father looked at him strangely.

"So would sitting around the fireplace over a cup of coffee. Hell, it's… barely over forty degrees outside." _Shit…_ "Ah, what the hell, this is the first time you've been over in a year. I'll join ya outside - just let me grab a coat. Do you want one?"

"No thanks. These things are actually pretty warm, you know?" Ethan simply shrugged before heading back inside.

"That couldn't have worked out any better," Wesley said through his earpiece. "Keep it up. Once you're in the woods, we'll begin quarantining the area off." It wasn't long before his father joined him once more outside, shutting and locking the door behind him.

"Alright, where to?"

"Let's see… remember that place towards the end of Juniper Drive? I think there was a pretty decent trail in there. Ran over a creek. Was it Builes?"

"Guiles Creek," his father corrected, "and yes, I know the area quite well. Follow me." As he led Michael gradually away from the suburbs and into a small clearing, he fished a pack out of his coat pocket, followed by a lighter. Ethan took out a single cigarette, then held the half-empty pack out for Michael, who simply shook his head. Still found them repulsive, though they surely wouldn't hurt him at this point. Ethan lit his own, then pocketed the lighter. "So," he began, "how's the army been treating you?"

"Good, most of the time is waiting around, but the girls and I enjoy it. Get a lot of cool toys to play with."

"Yep, I'd imagine that fully automatic stuff is fun, ain't it?"

"Mhm." He remained silent for a moment, unsure of how to continue. _Well, I guess I can start by shifting the conversation to his job…_ "What about you? How's work been lately?" The distant sound of the creek could be heard as the only sound permeating the dark silence.

"It's slowed down a bit, that's for certain. But everyone has their ups and downs, you know? It won't be long before the companies are back up on their feet, and business will be better than ever. I've never failed to make a comeback, and that ain't changing now." Words couldn't describe how much it hurt to hear those words.

"So nothing's changed then," Michael murmured absentmindedly.

"No. Not a damn thing."

"Just curious, dad - what companies do you work for?" All he had known previously about his father was that he was involved in private investing; for all Ethan knew, that was what Michael still believed.

"Oh, dozens. It would probably be easier to list the companies that I _haven't_ done business with."

"An all-around type, huh?"

"I guess you could say that." Taking a breath, he exhaled a deep fume of smoke into the wintery atmosphere. "Why do you ask?" He carefully considered his response.

"I was just curious…"

"Uh-huh."

"I wanted to see… if you would tell the truth." Ethan flashed him a confused look. Making eye contact with him, though, Michael could see the well-hidden signs of fear.

"Good luck, son," Wesley said.

"What are you talking about?" Michael slowly retrieved something from his shirt pocket. Something small and symbolic, representing all the hard work he had put into becoming what he was. He tossed it to his father, who caught it.

"You… you aren't the only one who's lied about his profession…" Ethan simply stared at the insignia. One would've thought that the dragonair was staring back, straight into his very soul. It knew, and it was judging him. He tossed the badge back to Michael.

"Then my worst fears have come to life," he sighed, withdrawing the cigarette. "A Reaper… You _had_ to be a Reaper…"

"Yes, I did. After seeing what had happened over there in Hoenn… I knew I wanted to help stop whoever was responsible for those atrocities. I just never would've thought… that my search would lead me back to my own family…"

"I should've known. Things weren't adding up. Seeing that you had a latias… over there at Cianwood... I wondered if it might have been that one that we had back at the Power Plant, and if maybe, just maybe, you may have been the Reaper involved. But I didn't take the thought seriously… and now look where that's got me." He turned to face his son. "Surely you planned to get me out here. I doubt I could make it back to the house if I tried."

"No one can. It's blocked off by now."

"Heh, that's just great. So, what now? Come to take your old man out?" Michael slowly shook his head.

"I've come to take you in… and also, to find out why… You've never given a shit about money. So why did you do it?"

"That's a long story," his father said.

"I've got time." As much as the Commander likely wanted Michael to get the arrest over with, any information that they could gain would be valuable.

"So then I am right to assume that you will hear me out? I mean, surely you must have learned of the darkness within the CIC by now…

"Yeah," he nodded, "I know of Giovanni and their relationship with Rocket…"

"Good, so then you are used to hearing the full story before making a judgement." Ethan walked over to a fallen tree, taking a seat on the moss-covered log. "Ah, if I had to pick a place to start, it would have to be Hoenn."

"Hoenn?"

"About eighteen years ago - the year you were born. I traveled there often for business. Back then, I was a legit."

"Where the hell did it all go so wrong?"

"Well, it was due to the political climate. The way things were headed…" Michael nodded, remembering his history lesson about the subject.

"Did it have something to do with the crackdown on the revolutionaries back in 2014?" Dozens of people had been arrested, and a few even killed, for plotting to overthrow Hoenn's government.

"It had _everything_ to do with that, yes. What'd they teach you about it in Kalos?"

"Let's see… it was a bunch of fascists that were upset about the effects of the Equal Economic Opportunity Act, right? Wanted to create an uprising and topple the government." His father grinned, then shook his head.

"Go figure - they _would_ distort the truth to suit their narrative. Their twist on reality. No, it was a _conservative_ revolution, not a fascist one. That term has become meaningless now - the hard left calls anyone that has common sense a fascist. Go back several years before shit went down. That act increased the safety nets of the poor at the expense of the wealthy and the average taxpayers. Only thing is, nothing seemed to be getting better for anyone. The inner cities were still shit, the education system didn't change a bit, and the amount of people that registered for public benefits went up by over thirty percent - in two years' time! So that raised the question: Where the hell was all that money going? I'll tell you where it was going - into the pockets of those damn liberals that passed the law! They spoke all sympathetic-like so that they could get their brainwashed hordes to show up to the polls. They come out ahead, and when they have enough in the Senate to write it into law, they do it. And nothing fucking changes! Coincidentally, though, their campaigning budgets all rose. Fundraisers, speeches - the whole nine yards. They took almost all of the conservative seats that were up for reelection the next go around, and it became clear that conservatism in the country had taken a huge hit. One that it probably would never recover from."

"So cue the revolution…"

"The right wing grew sick and tired of it. They had tried reasoning with the left throughout the process. The thing about the lefties, though, is they are incapable of having a reasonable, ideologically consistent argument. How the hell do you think it's okay to say that the government should stay out of the private lives of its citizens, and yet you want that same government to control their wallets? No, try to talk sense to them, and they start yelling, calling you all sorts of 'ist' names - fascist, sexist, imperialist… There is no reasoning with them. So the revolutionaries decided to split away from the rest of Hoenn, and they were ready to defend their claims if need be."

"But the liberals in power wouldn't have any of that, would they?" Michael asked.

"Of course not - they need conservative money to survive. We are the people who work; we are the people who build a nation. But they are the ones that destroy it. Take it all for themselves. So they set the police and the military after the people that wanted something else - something better. They took conservatives out of their own homes - even those that had nothing to do with the rebellion. Some of them never came back. It became clear that the right wing wasn't going to be around for much longer, so people started leaving. They'd lost Hoenn."

"What does this have to do with anything, though?" Michael asked.

"I never said I was done," Ethan countered. "The revolutionaries had the right ideas, but they lacked the resources and intelligence to effectively revolt. That was the case for all except the boss. He was young at the time. Young, but smart and charismatic. Only twenty when he got involved in it all, but what he lacked in age he more than made up for in brilliance. Douglas was willing to defy society in order to show Hoenn the error of her ways, but those in power were united against him. He fled the country and left for Johto, taking only what he could carry on him and his treecko.

"I met Douglas while he was at a political rally for Senator Hayter. He had a way with the people, and even listening to him could fire you up. He spoke of the liberalism that was creeping into society. How they were gonna do the very same thing that they had done to his country. I know it sounds like a bunch of shit, but the more you thought about it, the scarier it became. It was the same exact process every time - they get ahold of the education system, where they can start pumping your brain full of their agenda, their 'ideals,' if you can even call them that. They appeal to the poor by promising handouts, and pretty soon, they use all of these brainwashed supporters to take advantage of democracy. People that hardly know anything about politics or reality can vote all the same. And once they've won the seats, here comes wealth redistribution, globalization, and the rest of their socialist agenda. They won't be satisfied until the whole world is under their control. If they would, the liberalism wouldn't have left Kalos. But it spread to Hoenn, and took it over in a matter of years. Now Kanto is the new battle ground, and next will come us. We can't let that happen."

"So then what?"

"I held him back afterwards. His ideals needed to be implemented, and I told him that. But Douglas had escaped without a penny to his name. I was the one that got him started. I formed a partnership with someone half my own age to protect our way of life."

"And in order to do that, you need to sell people?"

"I'm getting to that. Douglas, you see, laid out the tactics for dealing with the left. All we want to do is to keep the disease contained, to keep it from spreading. Maybe, if all had gone well, we might have been able to take back what had been lost before. Even if the left had won through democracy, they won through the stupidity of their naive followers. That is not fair to the people who work hard to build what they have. In order to fight them off, we needed to take back control of what they had infested. The media, the internet, the schools… Believe it or not, it can all be _bought_. After all, those greedy fucks are in it for the money; give them a bit more, and a lot of them will actually back off. But you need the money… _we_ needed the money… That's where the organization comes into play."

"So you sell drugs, weapons, and people in order to generate money in order to buy off the left?"

"You could say that, yes. The thing is, though, all the girls we've sold… don't think for one damn second that they were just snatched from off the streets. All our targets are carefully planned. The left forced our hands; they made us go dark. It was only fair that they be the ones to pay for that. Every girl sold was taken from Hoenn, or from a lefty household within Kanto."

"But… how do you know?"

"Well, anyone in Hoenn is pretty much a guarantee. Now as far as Kanto is concerned… the voting record tells on everyone. Like I said, with the right amount of money, you can buy anything. Confidential data is no different. And as always, the greedy liberal elites were happy to sell. It's ironic, isn't it? We are literally buying the means to destroy them from right under their noses."

"What… what the fuck?" Michael was terrified - how could people be this heartless? He could _never_ identify as a liberal, but there was no denying that this was pure evil. "You all have sold your souls…"

"We have done what needed to be done," Ethan replied. He stood up and dropped his spent cigarette on the ground before crushing it under his foot. "And soon, we will destroy them. And here's the best part - some of the lefties actually want to try to 'understand' or 'tolerate' us. Hell, we've gotta be tolerant of all ideologies - all _except_ for conservatism. They would rather defend a bunch of criminal thugs for all they know than their own people. A truly despicable bunch, and they deserve what they are getting." Michael shook his head.

"Then why are you selling pokémon?"

"For the same reason we sell drugs." he replied.

"Like they're property, huh?"

"Product. I know what their mental capabilities are. Everyone does. But I have a duty to those who deserve to live in the _human_ race. I cannot concern myself with the wellbeing of them when our organization is fighting to conserve the right." He placed his hand on Michael's shoulder, coming much too close for the young Reaper's comfort. "Listen, I know this all probably sounds… well, _horrifying_. I would be lying if I said that I like what we do. I'm kept awake every night because of all the suffering we've caused. Maybe some of those young girls might have come to their senses… But all the pain, all the hurt - every bit of it will pay off in the end. Those of us in charge, those of us that really know what's going on… we know we will be looked at as the villains. But we've come to accept that. We love our country and our ideals enough to lose everything, including our reputations. Everything that we do… none of it is for money. Not for power. Not even for respect. That's why we have no formal name. All we want is a society that is worth living in. If it comes at the price of liberal lives, then so be it…" Michael only stared at him with a look of horror.

"Liberal lives? You would sell and kill them, just like that?"

"To tell you the truth… yes. I would, and I have. Douglas and I, as bad as it sounds, have been willing to do that from the very start. When you condone cowards, thugs, and perverts, I have no sympathy for you."

"Perverts?"

"The left is fascinated with sexual abnormality. Don't act like that comes as a surprise. All for pushing their agenda of 'open-mindedness' and 'acceptance.' They villainize conservatives for disliking homosexuality, or transgenderism, or poképhilia."

"Oh, alright," Michael said quietly, before looking his father in the eyes. "Perverts like me." Ethan's expression became one of shock.

"W…what? What the hell are you talking about?"

"You gave orders to have your own daughter-in-law murdered…"

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me… To think that you would be one of them…" The disgusted tone in his voice struck Michael to the core.

"I love my mates, and there's nothing wrong with our relationship. If Arceus thought that pokémon and human relationships were immoral, then he wouldn't have made them able to reproduce with one another."

"Oh, so there's more than one? What the hell… Where is your sense of decency? Where is your self-respect?" Michael shot his father an emotionless glare.

"Funny that you, a leader in the trafficking organization, would ask me that." He took the set of handcuffs out of his pocket. He was done with this conversation; it was time to take him in. "Turn around." Ethan did as he was instructed, placing his hands behind his back.

"Alright, good work," Wesley said as Michael locked a single cuff around his father's left wrist. "We've got the house, so go ahead and bring him back to the—."

The unthinkable happened. Ethan head-butted him in the face, causing him to stumble back and clasp his mouth. He could taste the warm blood as a result of his busted lip, but at the moment, it was the least of his concerns.

Ethan swiftly turned around, reaching for something from within his coat. He had only a split second to react. Michael lunged at him, catching his father's wrist as he withdrew a snub-nose .38 special. He grunted as he struggled to turn the gun towards his son, fighting Michael's grip on his arm. "If I'm going down… I'm taking you… with me, you fucking sicko!" He struck Michael with the cuff on his left hand, slicing the hinge over his left eye and opening a deep, red gash. The momentary flinch gave Ethan the break he needed.

The small revolver went off. The familiar burning, stinging sensation tore through Michael's left shoulder. "F-fuck!" he yelled. Nevertheless, he pushed back harder against Ethan. Another shot could be fatal, and that wasn't a chance he could take. This time, he made sure to grab his father's other wrist.

"Backup is on the way now!" Wesley told him, though he didn't hear it.

"You had… such a future… I had you set up for life," Ethan grunted. "And you throw it all… away! And for what?!" Michael brought his knee to Ethan's stomach, causing him to wince from the pain. That was his chance. He threw his right hand into crook of his father's elbow; the gun hit the ground with a soft thud. Rather than try to pick it up, though, Ethan continued his onslaught, quickly reaching forth and grabbing Michael's injured shoulder. Punch after punch was throw under his ribcage, knocking the air out of him. "Over a bunch… of fucking… pokémon!" Michael surged forth, hurling his father to the ground. The moment he fell, he tried to get back to his feet. Ethan was met with a harsh hook to the face, knocking him down onto his side. The following sound was a recognizable click.

Michael had his own revolver pointed at him, the hammer drawn back and ready to fire.

"You had it all… You could have made it big, son. We were going… to set you up…"

"I did what I did… to take people like you out," he snapped. "And I don't regret it one damn bit. As far as my girls go… They have always been the best thing to happen to me. _They've_ always been there from me, from the moment we met, while _you_ shipped me off to another fucking _country_ for years!"

"You needed the best education possible. But also, you needed… to see how those degenerates ran things."

"And I did. They may be a spineless, immoral bunch… but the worst of them are far better than the best of you all."

"One day… people will look back and understand where we were coming from. We will be despised, but everyone will know that what we did was necessary. We will be the ones that saved the world from spiraling into darkness. Into filth like _you_ …" He shook his head, glaring at his son. "I… you are a disappointment…"

"Coming from someone of your moral character, I'll take that as a compliment." Despite his words, though, Michael couldn't deny the fact that his father's hatred of him hurt.

"I'm not gonna pretend to be some leading moral figure."

"Good."

"But," he continued, "anyone with sense knows… that people that engage in the shit that you do… people that abandon their very sense of dignity and self-worth have no place in society…" He eyed his fallen revolver on the ground. Only a foot or two away…

"Don't you dare…" Distant calls grew closer as the reinforcements neared their location. His time was up.

"The left has no place in the new world. They need to dealt with like an epidemic. If nothing is done, this nation's ideals will fall, never to rise again. We can't sit by and watch as they take over this country too…"

"There… there has to be another way," Michael said. "Another way that doesn't require us to sell our very souls…"

"There _is_ no other way. But you won't accept that, will you?" Ethan spat. "After all, you turned out to be just another filthy fucking pervert!" He snatched up the revolver as quickly as he could, and in the blink of an eye, it was pointed at Michael's chest. Another gunshot echoed within the woods. But this one was far louder than the last. It was a magnum.

The gun fell out of Ethan's hand, and he fell short of breath. The red stain was growing prominent through his clothing, right in the center of his chest. He stared at the wound, knowing what it meant. "So I guess that's just it then, huh?" he said, half to himself. Ethan stared at Michael with an empty expression. Blood began to seep out of his mouth. The sound of it choking him would remain with Michael for the rest of his life.

"It… it didn't have to be this way," Michael said, perturbed by the sight before him. He looked as though he would become one with the cold, lifeless ground below him.

"Y-you have… already l-lost…" he choked. "We have… what we need to… f-finish the job…"

"W…what?" Michael asked, trying hard to restrain the tears. This wasn't at all the way things were supposed to go.

"We will pr-proceed… as planned. You won't be able to… take out Douglas." Despite his predicament, he let out a low, rumbling laugh, which eventually turned into sickening gurgle. "We will… take back th-this… world…" Ethan faintly said. He convulsed - a sharp exhale - and his chest remained still. Blood trickled down his chin, coloring the snow below him crimson. A blank stare emanated from Ethan's face. A lifeless stare.

Several footsteps approached, crunching the snow beneath them. Michael silently turned around, placing the revolver back inside his holster, and walked out of the clearing. The troops parted, not a one saying a word to the Reaper.

He had reacted, just as he always had. His mind was numb, only brought back down to earth from the painful throbbing in his shoulder. _I just… killed my father…_ _I just fucking killed my father…_ He had made his way back to the road. Already, he could see the flashing lights of cop cars everywhere he looked. People were walking outside of their houses, wondering what could be causing such a disturbance. He caught more than one horrified look, reminding him that his face was covered in blood. But at the moment, he couldn't care less.

The van drove up, coming to a stop in the middle of the road. Immediately, the girls rushed out. "Arceus!" Charlotte cried. "Michael, y-you're hurt!" She turned to Wesley in horror. "Y-you need a medic right now!"

"No," he mumbled, "I'll be fine…" It wouldn't take long; the injury and the pain would subside. The physical pain, at least.

"I'm… I'm so sorry," Alaina cried. "You had to…"

"I did… I did what I had to do." He shook his head, no longer withholding his tears.

"Come on son," Wesley said gently. "Let's get you outta here."

"No…" Michael replied. "Not yet…" He needed to see what was going on. What had become of the house. He walked past the vehicle, retracing his steps back to the house. All the way, a tingling sensation coursed throughout his shoulder, and the blood seeping from the cut over his eye reduced to a slight trickle.

The front door had been kicked in. He watched as the secret service carried objects of every sort out of the house, from trash bags full of papers to houseplants. At the rate they were going, they would tear the building apart brick by brick within the next hour or so.

"Michael?!" A woman called out from behind the blockade. The police were blocking her from entering the premises. He turned to face her, recognizing the familiar voice.

"Mom…"

"Arceus, what happened to you? What's going on? And why are all these men going into our house?" How the hell could he explain this one?

"Mom… did you know what was going on?" She responded with a puzzled look, then shook her head.

"What are you talking about?"

"Dad… he was running a… a trafficking organization…"

"Why the hell would you even joke like that?"

"Do I look like I'm in the mood for humor? Dad was selling people!" Despite all the evidence around them, his mother still refused to believe it.

"Where is Ethan? I'm sure he'll be able to clear everything up."

"Mom… he's gone…" He looked down, unable to look at her shocked expression. "He came after me, and I… I did what I had to do…"

"You… killed my husband?!" It was all she could do not to topple over; one of the officers blocking her access to the house had to catch her.

"Mom, I wasn't t-trying to—."

"Don't call me that!" she yelled. Alaina had made her way to the two of them, trying to calm his mother down.

"Mrs. Higgs, your husband attacked Michael, and—."

"I wasn't talking to you! You stay out of this!"

"Don't speak to her like that!" Michael countered, only to be completely ignored by her.

"To think that you… you would _kill_ the man that gave you life…"

"B-but I was just - look, I just defended mys—."

"Go to hell!" She pushed the officer away, then stumbled to her knees, sobbing heavily on all fours. Eventually, though, she managed to look up at her son through burning, tear-filled eyes. "You have ruined everything… I knew there was something off, but… I never asked. It was all going well… we were _happy_. And then you come and bring all these people and… took it all away. Just… just _leave_." The spite was audible in her voice. "You're no son of mine." Alaina took him by the hand, pulling him away from the scene.

"Come on," she said angrily. "Let's go." He nodded, following her back to the van. He stopped, though, and turned back to face his mother one final time.

"…You're right. If you're gonna defend a trafficker… then I'm no son of yours. Between you and... _Ethan_... it will be a cold day in hell before I use the name Higgs again…" With that, he left it all behind, never to look back.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Glad to see you made it through that. Again, I just want to clarify that anything said above does not necessarily reflect my views (particularly the things said by Ethan), but this was a necessary step to take for the development of the trafficking organization.**

 **Anyways, hope to hear from you all! Please tell me what you think, and see you next chapter!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:**

 **Sorry for the long wait. Had a long list of deadlines for getting everything prepared for college. Another shorter chapter here that sets up for important events later. Anyways, hope you all enjoy the latest chapter.**

 **Thanks to Umi x3 for reading over this chapter ahead of time. Also, want to thank** **Lunar Knight Archangel for all his work in beta reading this story over the past half-year. For now, he is undergoing basic training, so wishing him the best in the army.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"The people that are quick to walk away are the ones that never intended to stay."**

 **-Unknown**

* * *

 **Ch. 19** \- **Back in the Game**

The water began to cool - a result of Michael being in the shower for over half an hour. Still, though, he stood against the wall, letting it run down his body as he continued to be lost within his thoughts. It had been nearly two weeks since the incident; so soon, and yet he could hardly remember a thing since he had come back to base. Wesley and the girls had all tried to comfort him along the trip back, but not a word registered to his troubled mind. All he could recall was stumbling into his room, throwing his revolver into the nightstand drawer, and collapsing onto the bed.

Michael wanted nothing more than to wash the memories away; forget that it all ever happened. He should have been better by now. He was over it, wasn't he? But if he was done with it all, why did it still hurt so much? There had always been a huge gap between him and his father, and Michael could say, without a shadow of a doubt, that the girls had always been closer to him than his own parents. But he also could say that what happened that day on Guiles Creek… that hit hard.

The later autopsy had found that the hollow-point .357 had blown through the lower part of his left lung and had opened up the left ventricle of his heart. The exit wound in his back was about the size of a shrunken pokéball - far too big a hole in the chest cavity for someone to survive. It could even be considered a miracle that he had managed to last the twenty seconds he did after taking the shot.

Even in death, Ethan Higgs proved to be a pain in the ass. His prominence within the community led to questioning when he just disappeared in the midst of what seemed to be a military operation in the suburbs. The night the house was taken over, the media was already in a frenzy. And Carrie Higgs had not helped at all - whereas Wesley had tried to settle the reporters, she had gone to others and had the audacity to tell them that her own son had taken Ethan's life - without including his criminal status, or the fact that Michael acted in self defense. This, of course, led to a local outrage and cries for justice, which was only settled through the revelation of what the army had hoped could remain military secrets. In the end, Ethan's involvement in the trafficking organization was stated and left at that.

But this couldn't prevent the media from doing what they usually did - get in the middle of everything. Three news stations had already begun speaking of the distraught Reaper before Commander Hawkins could step in and tell them to knock it off. Even when he was able to get the reporters away from the story, the damage had already been done. Enough had been released to blow Michael's cover. Once his _former_ mother had mentioned the presence of a latias with Michael, it didn't take a genius to figure out that the very same Michael that had recently won the championship in Cianwood was also the Reaper that helped destroy the Power Plant. At that point, there was no stopping it; the papers, the channels - they had all connected the dots. Here was the alleged 'Grim Reaper' that won the Cianwood Solstice Battle and killed his father. Damn.

People knew of him. That wasn't exactly something they liked in the special forces. Extra precautions were taken in order to keep each of the soldiers' identities from coming to light. But now, that was completely out the window for the young Reaper. What the hell was he going to do now? He would have to speak with Wesley about it all.

"Here's the key," he heard outside. _Wow, Charlotte…_ Someone began fumbling with the doorknob, and a light click could be heard.

"Michael?" Alaina called out. He rolled his eyes, turning off the water.

"Huh, seems privacy is a bit too much to ask for…" She approached the shower door and opened it.

"Nothing I haven't seen several times already." She grabbed the towel, wrapping it around him before placing her arms on his shoulders. "Come on, let's get you out of here." He was grateful that he had such loving and supportive pokémon throughout this whole ordeal, but nothing had lifted his spirits ever since New Year's. With his direct family torn apart and his cover having been blown, Michael doubted that anything _could_ cheer him up. Maybe it was only a phase that would pass as time went on. Hopefully.

As he walked into the front of the house, full dressed now, he was greeted with several scents. _They made breakfast…_ "There you are," Charlotte said, she said. "We've all pitched in here. Well, all of us except for _someone_ ," she jokingly said.

"No fair," Elise said shyly, "I don't have hands…" Veronica carried the plates out of the kitchen - each one with an omelet on it. To tell the truth, Michael was quite impressed with the endeavor.

"How did you all learn to make that?"

"I looked it up," Alaina responded. _They must've done it to cheer me up_ , he thought.

"Thank you all," he said quietly. It was relieving to know that in the midst of all this, his girls were there for him. They would have his back no matter what - even when his own family wouldn't. _No… they aren't my family…_ He had stuck to his words when he said that he was dropping their name. Michael would be damned if he took the name of the very people he had fought to destroy. But what to replace it with?

As they ate in silence, Michael became more and more adamant about his position. No, he was _not_ kin to thugs and traffickers. He and the other Reapers had pledged their service to obliterating forces like that, and that ideal had become a very prominent part of his personality. Everything they stood against were the very things that Ethan had stood for - crookedness, hatred, hatefulness - were the things that they had pledged to stop. There really wasn't even any reason to be upset, was there? Ethan Higgs had been just another piece of shit that deserved the bullet he took. He wasn't sorry for what he did, nor did he regret it. Not only had he acted in self defense, but he had also removed one of the most dangerous men throughout all the regions. Inadvertently, he had partially accomplished what he had set out to do from the very beginning. And if anything, that brought a small grin to his face.

"You know what?" he finally said. "Fuck him. I'm over it."

 **. . . . .**

Later that afternoon he had received a knock on the door. "It's open!" Wesley entered, of all people. "Ah, Commander Hawkins. Nice to see you." Currently, Michael was laying on the couch, with both Elise and Charlotte laying against him.

"You sound… well, _happier_ than I would've expected…"

"I've moved on. Stopped giving a shit about the fate of a trafficker. Never did before - why should I now?" Wesley seemed surprised to hear this, but continued nonetheless.

"Alright then," he said. "Well, we have thoroughly searched through every piece of evidence in Ethan's house."

"What did you find?" Michael asked.

"Not much that he didn't already tell you. He was smart in what he revealed. But… we know _exactly_ who we're up against now."

"Great. Who is it?"

"We'll discuss it over a debriefing in an hour. I've already made contact with the others. They'll be video chatting us. Have you talked with any of them yet?"

"No. Not since New Year's. But I'm sure they've seen the news by now." That reminded him of something he wanted to ask, though. "Say, this uh… publicity that I've recently received … Is that going to be a problem?"

"Well… no, it shouldn't be. If I know you half as well as I think I do, then I can safely assume that you won't release classified information to the public. Just stay silent and stay outta trouble. The loss of anonymity shouldn't be too much of an issue unless you make it one." He paused, clearly treading lightly on his next words. "I mean, not trying to come across as harsh, but it's not as though there are family members that could be used as leverage against you." That was true… And both his friends and his pokémon were safe under military protection.

"Good to hear. What time is the debriefing?" he asked.

"Four - in the meeting room."

 **. . . . .**

Wesley and Michael sat on alternate ends of the table, while five of the black screens buzzed to life. After all this time, they would finally learn more about who had been stirring up all this trouble. One by one, the faces of his comrades appeared on screen.

"Hey man," Alex said. "You seem to be the center of attention lately."

"Is it true?" Samuel asked. "All the stuff that's been said? About your father?"

"All of that will be addressed," Wesley stated flatly. "But to sum that part up - yes, that was all true. Ethan Higgs was maintaining funds and orchestrated several hundred operations for the traffickers."

"…Damn man," Kevin said. "Listen, I'm sorry you got wrapped up in all of that…" Michael shook his head.

"No. Messed up as it sounds, I'm glad I got to be the one to send him to hell. He's not my father."

"Shit…" Kevin replied, "that's kinda cold…"

"Never had any sympathy for terrorists before. Ain't gonna change that view just because Ethan was involved with a bunch of terrorists." With the shock having settled down, Wesley decided to refocus the conversation towards its main topic.

"Before we begin, are you all in safe and secluded locations?" Four yeses.

"I should be good," Thomas said. "Back of the house."

"Is anyone home?" Wesley asked.

"Nobody but Ivy."

"Alright then." Wesley stood up, picking up a folder from the table. "Where to begin…" he trailed off. "Well, it's safe to say that we recovered a lot of data from the Higgs' house. Upon inspection, we were able to finally to identify our main target." From the folder came a large, printed out picture of a man in his early twenties with bright blond hair and a wide grin. A sceptile was beside him, draping her arm over his shoulder casually while also smiling at the camera. She wore a bracelet that had a green mega stone embedded within it. _That must've been the treecko Ethan mentioned…_ "Boys, meet Douglas Stone." The room went dead silent. _No... it can't be..._

"Stone? As in…."

"Yes," Wesley said, finishing John's sentence, " _that_ Stone. We've already brought Steven in for questioning. He says he knows nothing about it, and that he and his son haven't spoken in years." _The champion's son… is responsible for all this?_ More surprisingly, the champion of such a left-leaning region… "What Ethan had said was true - Douglas was caught up in the conservative revolution in Hoenn. He wasn't a big player at the time, but he became prominent among the pissed off citizens in both Kanto and Johto upon fleeing his country. Fast forward a few years, and he starts up an alt-right terrorist organization for the purpose of taking the regions back for conservatives, and not in a very democratic manner…"

"Where is he now?" Thomas asked.

"We aren't sure. Nothing in Ethan's records indicated Stone's location, aside from hinting that his HQ is somewhere in Kanto. They've done an excellent job in keeping off the radar."

"So then back to Kanto?" Michael asked. Wesley shook his head.

"Before long, that might be the case. If the CIC can't take care of the traffickers, then we'll step in. Right now, though, we should be more concerned about purging the traffickers out of Johto."

"Wait, they're here too?!"

"A few of them, yes. They're trying to set up a base of support - and it isn't gonna take them long to get that. I'm sure you all know _exactly_ who I'm talking about…" Michael thought about it for a second. Who could the traffickers possibly appeal to? Some alt-right extremists… there definitely were those within Johto's borders, though they weren't too terribly common. But a unified group of them that would be willing to follow Stone's narrative…

"…It's The Assembly, isn't it?" he finally said.

"Bingo. The Assembly has the passion and the resources that the traffickers need - viewing the political opponents as subhuman and being willing to back their beliefs with violence. The traffickers won't need to hire lowlife thugs - they'll get the average people in on it all if The Assembly manages to break through. Fortunately, the fact that they won't use electronic communications helps us a ton, but we still need to act fast to ensure that the last remaining admins don't make contact with The Assembly. If those guys join in with Stone… it won't be like anything you've faced before. They aren't like the thugs that Stone's organization has hired over al this time - these men know their way around this land. And if we get engaged in a civil conflict… a trafficking organization will be the _least_ of our concerns. Johto is almost exclusively right wingers - some of which may be compelled to join Stone's cause via The Assembly if the right speakers appeal to them. Some may see it as an opportunity to join in and fight for a cause that represents the beliefs of core conservatism. And before you all would know it, _we_ could be conveyed as the enemies - those who want to protect an establishment that in turn protects the lives of the lefties. I could easily see the country falling apart, and that would be catastrophic for _all_ of the regions."

The realization of how grave the situation was struck them all as terrifying - they may have to fight people within their own country… maybe within their own military. The Assembly certainly held soldiers in high esteem; many assemblers probably had experience with the military. If a civil war were to break out within Johto… a trafficking organization truly would pale in comparison to what they would be facing. That would be a war that they could not win - not with the sheer numbers that they could potentially be facing.

He stood up, placing his hands on the table. "Obviously we can't let this happen, so we need to take these admins out _now_. We've mobilized troops to protect the border from any who may seek to cross, and we have dispatched operatives to intercept nearly all of the remaining admins that we discovered - thanks to Ethan's records. Once we finish them off, we will be done with this whole thing, and the trafficking organization will be destroyed."

"How'd you find them?" Michael asked. "Didn't they take pride in their anonymity? How were you able to track them using the intel you got at the house?"

"Ethan dealt with nearly all of the funds of those below him. Granted, you can make an alias if you want to conceal your identity, but you can't manipulate numbers nearly as effectively. He had records of deposits and withdrawals - records that we could match at corresponding bank locations. At that point, it was only a matter of tapping in to the security footage. Then we had the faces to match it all to. And if you think that you can live in today's society and hide forever… you're gravely mistaken. Phones, computers, traffic cameras - hell, satellites… all those records wind up in our hands. There's no way to hide from the highest powers, unless you decide on living off the grid." He sifted the papers through the folder once again, leaving the photo of their still hidden enemy. "Off the grid… like this son of a bitch. All we can do is take out his organization from under him. In time, he may resurface. That's when we'll take him out as well."

"So… the admins. Are they all taken care of?" John asked.

"All but one or two, which we're going to have to send standards in for."

"Don't you think assassinations are a bit much for standards?" Michael questioned.

"Maybe, but we're out of options. Nearly all of our specials are assigned or overseas. We've got no other choice. Not like it's a whole lot of 'em, anyways."

"Then send me," Michael said.

"What?"

"Send me to take out the remaining admins."

"We could easily send in half a dozen or so privates to take them out. And besides, you're on break," Wesley replied.

"So? I still capped Ethan."

"Well… that is true," the Commander admitted. "But these missions are going to need to take place in the next few days or so - probably one right after another." Maybe he should have thought this over before he mindlessly threw out the idea. How would the girls respond to him volunteering to go back to work in the middle of his break? This was supposed to be, after all, their time together. _But it needs to be me,_ he thought. _Those boys won't be trained for that sort of stuff. Me on the other hand…_ If his pokémon would be mad at him, so be it. Right now, the Reapers needed to finish what they started, and make sure that Johto would remain safe from the evilness they had been fighting over the course of their first tour.

"I can be ready by then."

 **. . . . .**

"This just in - a surge of military personnel have been stationed along the borders of Johto and Kanto for no clear reason. Over fifty-thousand troops are guarding the border this very moment, making this the largest mobilization within the last three decades." The screen was filled with footage of armored vehicles of every sort patrolling the wall between the two countries, especially pooling around major roads between Kanto and Johto such as Routes 27 and 28. "Furthermore, members of Kanto's CIC regiment have also pitched in to assist the army in whatever operation they are engaged in," the news anchor stated. A clip of Kanto's president followed shortly after - a speech made to the open press.

"I am uncertain as to what has suddenly alerted our allies in Johto for seemingly no reason. Rest be assured, though, that we will get to the bottom of this and find out what issue has led to Johto's heightened vigilance." The mass mobilization to the Kanto-Johto border had certainly taken everyone by surprise - only the special forces seemed to understand fully what was going on. "Regardless of what it may look like, it is safe to say that both Kanto and Johto will cooperate just as we have always done to ensure the safety of our people. Despite the importance of what was being displayed by the news, though, the girls and Michael were hardly paying attention. Rather, the more pressing issue at the moment was the heated argument between Michael and the flygon.

"You did what?!" Veronica growled. "Are you kidding me right now?" The dragoness had clearly taken the news of his volunteering harshly.

"It'll only be a single mission or two, tops," Michael responded.

"I don't give a shit! You aren't supposed to be working now! I mean - seriously?! Tomorrow?!" Right now, it seemed as though she was hardly withholding herself - as though she were about to strike him. "You even said that they could be sending others out to do this!"

"Yeah, they _could_ be sending others out there - guys that may have never pulled a trigger on a person in their life! We're talking about an assassination here - they want someone who's willing to walk into a man's _house_ and kill him in his bed. Ver, that's one hell of a job to pull - especially if you haven't done it before." She didn't seem to want to hear it.

"There's no excuse for this bullshit! You know damn well that they could handle it! They are members of the most powerful military in the world! As if they can't take out one man!"

"Well this 'one man' seemed to do a damn good job of evading us all this time," he countered. "Listen up - these assholes are trying to work their way into our homes, where they will hook up with The Assembly. If that happens… everything we will have done will surely be for nothing. That's a battle we can't win - one within our own borders. Against our own people. We can't fight 'em all, Ver." She stood there silently; his words were true, but she despised the very fact. "We're going to finish what we started, and we won't have to worry about stuff like this anymore. If this man does not die tomorrow night, then we may just lose this war after all. That's a risk I'm not willing to take. Look Ver - I don't need anyone's approval to do this. It's my choice - not yours - and you're going to have to get over that." The moment he said those last words, Michael realized how harsh it had come across. Ver went wide-eyed, then slowly nodded.

"Alright then," Veronica said with a clear animosity in her voice. She left the rest of the group in the living room, retreating to the back room. He flinched as the door was slammed shut. _Ah great, I had to go and piss her off…_ Granted, he was still set about doing the mission - he had even stayed behind in the debriefing room to hear the information regarding his target. But he could have been much less hostile in defending his point. A nicer tone of voice surely wouldn't have hurt.

"Great," he muttered. Slowly, he took a step towards the hallway, but Layla reached out and grabbed his hand.

"I uhh… I wouldn't do that if I were you," she whispered. "I'm sensing a lotta emotion back there - she's really pissed." A loud bout of swearing from the back room confirmed this. "Just give her some time. You know Ver - she'll cool down, then probably apologize for being such a drama queen." _Hopefully._ Right now, he really didn't have hours to devote to resolving her petty anger - there was still something that he wanted to do before he left for the mission tomorrow.

 **. . . . .**

He had hitched a ride from a departing supply helicopter in order to make his way back to town - it was highly unlikely that Ver would be willing to fly him anywhere for the time being. When he got back, he should probably apologize for snapping back at her the way he did. Even though she had been overstepping her boundaries by trying to keep him there, despite the fact that he truly needed to do this, her cause of frustration really was justified. After all, this _was_ supposed to be his time off.

The helicopter landed at the airport, snapping him out of his thoughts. Throughout the taxi ride to the city courthouse, Michael couldn't help but wonder if he was making the right decision. True, his identity had been blown - that much was a given. But should he really do this? Well, Wesley was right - it wasn't as though family could be used as leverage against him. The evening ride gave him enough time to settle on an answer. Despite the lack of threat, Michael would not bear that last name. Yes, he was going through with this.

The courthouse wasn't busy; he was able to gain assistance quickly, and thus, the form that he needed. Michael wordlessly sped through, filling out all the required information before pausing at the final blank line. _Well… they know who I am now. I'll live up to the infamous title they've given me; I'll give them something to be afraid of._ The last question stared back at him - what did he want his new legal name to be? With a quick stroke of the pen, he filled in the blank before handing the form to the receptionist. _Michael Grim._

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Hope you enjoyed reading, and see you next chapter!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:**

 **Hey guys, sorry I've kinda disappeared. Trying to get everything set up for college while contributing to my stories, and it's become a bit of a hassle to say the least. Don't worry though, I'm always gonna do my best to update regularly.**

 **If you enjoy this story, by the way, I do have another one in the making. Since there really aren't that many Mystery Dungeon stories out there, I decided to make one (Explorers of Sky, btw). Anyways, if this interests you, please consider checking out _Into Darkness._**

 **I still don't own Pokémon...**

 **EDIT: I changed the Secretary's name to Connor, as I have previously used Stryker in this story.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"It's one thing to have the faith to get started, but it's another thing to have the fortitude to finish strong."**

 **-Kami Dempsey**

* * *

 **Ch. 20 - Following Through**

Michael had finished putting on his suit in preparation for the first mission. Both he and Zeke were involved in the assignment; the Commander decided that the zoroark's abilities could be instrumental in keeping Michael hidden until the right moment. Such stealth was going to be necessary, as this job would be slightly different than the last hits Michael had pulled off. After all, unlike every other mission, he would have to kill this target within the presence of his family.

The two of them were heading to a countryside house, where they would wait until everyone was asleep before making their move. They would slip inside and head to the bedroom, where Michael would place the silenced pistol to the head of the admin and end him. The thought of pulling off such a job put a feeling of discomfort within him, but this needed to be done; if Wade Compton did not die, then countless others could suffer down the line.

To think, though, that this conflict was finally nearing it's end. _It's gonna be weird not having anyone to fight,_ Michael thought. Well, that might not be entirely accurate - new threats could spring up at any time. But the Twenty-Fifth Regiment would surely have a much lighter work load once the rest of the trafficking organization was taken out.

"Ready for this one?" Zeke asked.

"Yeah. Shouldn't take too long. By the time we get there, they'll probably be asleep." He screwed the silencer onto the USP-45, then slid it into the open holster on his side.

"Hopefully."

The helicopter silently descended into a clearing in the woods, where Michael and Zeke stepped out. Immediately Michael switched on his night vision. "The house's location should appear on your visor," Wesley said. Sure enough, a small triangle appeared in the upper right of Michael's visor display, along with a number beside it.

"Damn, fifteen hundred yards?"

"What'd you expect - to be dropped off on their front porch?" Zeke retorted.

"Fair enough."

"Alright, so quick recap," Wesley said, "Compton has a security system in case of a break in. Open that window without disabling it first and that alarm's gonna go off. You do remember how to use that EMP jammer, right?"

"Eh, I'll figure it out as I go." Wesley likely rolled his eyes.

"Switch on the left to activate the device, then hit the red button whenever you're pointing at the security system."

"M'kay. Come on, Zeke. Let's go bust a cap in this piece of shit."

The two treaded through the woods towards their destination, which, being that they were in the middle of dense brush, seemed to be miles away. The one thing that brought humor to the trip was the constant swearing coming from the zoroark as he tried in vain to avoid the plethora of briars within the woods, only to get them tangled in his fur as time went on. Eventually, though, they stepped out of the woods and faced the building that housed the enemy. A mountain house stood before them, fairly distant from the other high-class homes similar to it. The small mansion had been built amongst the spruce and next to a small, nearly silent brook.

"Shit, this place is huge. How the hell are we gonna find him in there?" Zeke asked.

"Well considering he's probably asleep by now, he should be in the master bedroom on the second floor," Wesley replied. Michael cast a quick glance to each of the windows before dashing up to the front porch, soon followed by the zoroark. They crouched near the window, and eventually, Michael peaked over the edge. Nobody was around, and the still, red light on the wall alerted him to the main security system control.

"Okay, coast is clear." He took the EMP jammer from his side and pointed it at the control. _Let's see… left switch, red button…_ The device made a lowly chirp, and the light on the panel flickered off. "Annnnd we're good to go."

"Hurry, you won't have long before the system reboots." Michael took the short sword out of its sheath and wedged the tip into the windowsill. He steadily increased his pressure on the handle, using the bladed weapon to pry open the window, which eventually gave way with a light crack. He quickly lifted it up and stepped inside, followed by Zeke. Before he forgot, the Reaper made sure to shut the window behind him so as to avoid suspicion. "Good, now take out the alarm." Slowly checking around the corner into the living room, he found nobody around. Michael then unscrewed the side of the security panel, to which he removed the batteries and rolled them under the leather couch. _That takes care of that_.

"Alright, the stairs will be at the first door on your right. Be careful not to make a sound." He gently rested his hand on the brass knob before quietly turning it. They then began the painstakingly long process of ascending the stairway in complete silence, spending what felt like hours on each step to keep it from creaking. "That's right - slow and steady. The master bedroom will be straight ahead once you get up there."

Eventually the door to the master bedroom came into vision, but one thing warranted concern - the light creeping from underneath a door to the left. "Dammit, I think someone's still up."

"Tread lightly. Zeke, be prepared to create an illusion." They had to go forth - they couldn't just stand there and risk someone walking out of the room. To make matters worse, he could hear movement from within - someone was _definitely_ awake. Michael's heart felt as though it were about to jump out of his chest with each silent step he took. The door that contained his mission grew closer and closer, until his hand lay against the ajar entrance. He slowly pushed it open, seeing the wedded couple peacefully lying asleep.

And not a moment too soon. Right after Zeke had slipped inside, the door behind them opened, and a twelve year old kid stepped out - presumably to get a drink of water or go to the restroom. Though he was carrying out his sworn duty, the guilt hit Michael like a freight train. _They probably don't even know. And yet they're gonna wake up to find him dead…_ "Commander…"

"I know…" he said in a somber tone. "But you need to carry on with the mission." Hearing that didn't help, nor did the large family portrait hanging over the bed. Had he not known the backstory to Wade Compton, he would have never guessed that such a decent looking family could secretly contain such a vile person. Nobody would have ever known.

"We can't bring this one in? I'm sure I could—."

"Your orders are to kill him, not capture him. We have no use for him, and he would be sentenced to death for what he's done anyways. One way or another, he's going to die. Best do it without spending taxpayer dollars and booking court dates." Michael edged forward, approaching the man in his thirties until he was standing right over him. His hand was clenched tight around the grip of his pistol, but the firearm felt as though it weighed a ton as he tried to unholster it. "I'm sorry son, I know this is hard. But this is what we do."

He managed to retrieve the weapon, and placed the suppressed barrel mere inches away from Wade's head. Instantly images flashed through his mind - a woman waking only to discover her husband's brains spread amongst the pillow, sobbing children not knowing who would have done such a horrible thing. To this oblivious family, he would always be the "bad guy" who took him away from them. And despite the reality of what he did for a living, Wade would be remembered by them with sympathy and sorrow. Michael tried to shake such thoughts out of his head - best not to think about stuff like that. Not when there was nothing he could do. It simply wasn't his problem.

Gradually he pulled the trigger. The gun recoiled silently, almost coming to him as a surprise, and a lone brass case fell onto the carpet. Wade's body jerked slightly in response to the nervous trauma before his diaphragm relaxed for the final time. Already a steady stream was making its way down his face, and the snow-white sheets were stained red.

"Good work. Feds will be there before long to search the house," Wesley said. "I'd hurry and get outta there if I were you. Wouldn't wanna be around to see the aftermath." At the rate Wade was bleeding, that wouldn't take long.

"Come on," Zeke said, "let's go." Finally managing to avert his gaze from his work, Michael turned around and began to retrace his steps. Zeke gently close the door behind them as they headed back. "Should we be concerned about that kid?" he asked.

"Yeah, where'd he go?" Michael questioned. Just as he asked, the sound of footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. "Oh shit!"

"I've got this," Zeke said before enshrouding the two of them in a dark aura. Michael froze up in panic. Nowhere to hide, and certainly not enough time to flee without being noticed. He could only pray that the zoroark could cover them quick enough to avoid detection. The kid reached the top of the stairs, then paused, staring straight ahead. Michael held his breath as the boy stood straight towards the duo that had just eliminated his father. Then to their relief, he walked away, clearly not seeing a thing. _Fuck that was close…_

With the final obstacle taken care of, they retreated out of the house, leaving the destruction for the oblivious family to discover. And they weren't even done for the day.

 **. . . . .**

The ride to their next destination had consisted mostly of silence as Michael reflected on what had occurred. He never hoped to pull a trigger under those circumstances again. With any luck, this would be the first and last time. But considering the fact that he had another mission of the sort to pull off within the course of a few hours, he may very well may find himself in a similar situation.

As the helicopter approached Mahogany Town, the sun began to rise over the distant mountains. Zeke was currently dozing away on the seat opposite to Michael, catching a quick nap before their next mission. Michael, on the other hand, likely wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon. Not that he felt bad for taking out Wade - no, he would never have even the remotest bit of sympathy for a human trafficker - but the family was going to be torn apart over what they had now probably discovered. As much as he wanted to get the thoughts out of his head, his mind ket drifting back to them. _I need to occupy myself somehow…_

"Commander, you got a moment?" A short span of silence followed, but Wesley picked up before long.

"'Course. What's on your mind?"

"Well… I'm kinda wondering how this whole situation is gonna play out. I mean, the news is probably gonna be onto this series of hits before noon. What the hell is gonna be said about nearly thirty military-style assassinations that took place in the middle of the night?"

"You're right in thinking the media will get involved. Hell, they always do. And I can't blame 'em this go around - it looks like we're about to start a damn war with Kanto with the way we rushed forces to the border, and that many people just dying all of a sudden… there's gonna be a commotion. I'm thinking that the Secretary of Defense is gonna have to make some statements regarding the organization, but he'll probably leave out the part mentioning that they wanted to gain the assistance of The Assembly. There are just certain things the public can't find out about, y'know? The vast majority of citizens will never know how much of a threat the alt-right has posed to the stability of our country. But that's what we're here for - to solve the problem before people have to even hear about it."

"Huh. That's true and all, but he's gonna have to make one hell of a statement to cover all this up."

"Yeah," Wesley said, "but Connor has a way with words. He'll find a way to say what needs to be said without triggering the alt-right here." The Chinook began to descend, and their destination came into view. Michael began to slip off his suit - being that this final target was in a hotel, and not in a series of distant mountain houses, it would be unfitting to show up in a mask and kevlar. Michael nudged Zeke, who woke with a startled snort.

"Almost there."

"Huh?" he asked in confusion, before realizing the situation. "Oh, okay."

"Listen up," Wesley said to the two of them. "I doubt he will be at the hotel for much longer, so you two will have to act quick. Terrence recently checked out room 208. We've wiped his records from the hotel's system, so Michael will purchase a night and request that specific room number. Zeke, you wait around back, just in case he tries to escape from the balcony. Wouldn't be a smart idea from the second floor, but anything is possible. And Michael - you need to make sure to pull this one off quietly. We don't need the rest of the people inside to wake up to gunshots."

By the time they had landed, Michael had fastened the buttons of his jacket - one which hid a concealed camera - and placed the small earpiece into his right ear. He removed the silencer from the USP in order to fit it within his pocket, then stepped into the cool morning breeze, where the gates of the private airport were already open and a black SUV was waiting for them. Dawn, six in the morning. They didn't have any time to waste.

The drive, altogether, took less than ten minutes. Once the vehicle pulled up to the front lobby, its two passengers got out. Zeke headed around the building to his designated area, whereas Michael walked through the front door. Inside the modestly furnished room was a counter with a lone receptionist behind it. She looked as though she were barely awake, with dark circles under her eyes. _Shit, she looks like hell._

"'Morning," she said, trying a little too hard to feign some sort of enthusiasm. "What can I help you with?"

"I'd like to book a room for tonight," he replied.

"Sure thing," she said with a yawn. He took out his wallet and handed her the card.

"Oh, and if I may, I'd like to request a specific room. I generally ask for 208 when it's available." She shook her head.

"Pretty sure that one is occupied, but let me check just to make sure." She tapped away at the keyboard, then looked at it confusedly. "Huh, guess I was wrong. It's vacant." The receptionist handed him the card key, as well as his debit card and receipt. "Enjoy your stay."

Michael nodded then turned away. He decided to take the stairs in an effort to save time. Upon reaching the second floor, he opened the door and looked across the hallway, finding it to be completely empty - far too early for most people to consider getting up. _Alright, evens on the left._ The room of interest was the fifth one from the stairs. He quietly walked up in front of it, and, checking once more to make sure no one was around, took the pistol out of his jacket and screwed on the silencer. Keeping it in his right hand, he slowly inserted the card key before swinging the door open.

A man well up into his fifties had just finished putting on a blazer, and jumped back in shock from the untimely assailant. Another outwardly-decent looking fellow, one that better resembled a kindly professor rather than a trafficking admin. Now he looked as though he had seen a ghost - his face pale and drained of color - and instantly Terrence knew what was going to happen. "That's him alright," Wesley said.

A pair of silent shots tore through his chest. He looked down at the two growing red spots amidst the white dress shirt before falling into the wall. One more shot - to the head, just to be safe - and his neck snapped back before he fell limp onto the floor.

"Alright son, you're done for the time being. At this point, nearly every admin has been capped."

"That's good news if I've ever heard it," Michael said while tucking the weapon back into his jacket pocket. With any luck, this following year wouldn't be nearly as busy. Perhaps the old "hurry up and wait" routine.

"I'm heading back around," Zeke said. "By the way, Michael, you kinda punched some holes in the vinyl siding outside. You all gonna fix that, Hawk?"

"The clean-up crew will see to it," Wesley replied. "Collateral damage is always to be expected. Not nearly as significant an issue as compared to a trafficker running loose in the country."

Figuring that his job here was done, Michael left the way he came, only to discover the receptionist with her head in her folded arms, asleep on the desk. _Yeah, that was only a matter of time._ Zeke was waiting inside the vehicle, clearly ready to go.

"Takin' your time I see," the zoroark said.

"You know, I'm pretty sure I left the gun back in the room," Michael joked. "And that's a nice fucking pistol. Be right back."

"Shut the hell up and get in."

Before long, the two of them were on their way to the base, scheduled to arrive there before midday. By this point, the exhaustion was starting to catch up with Michael, and he decided that a nice, long nap would do him well. As he began to drift off, though, he couldn't shake the feeling that he truly was forgetting something. _Must not be anything important if I can't remember it…_

 **. . . . .**

"Get your lazy ass up," Zeke said, nudging him awake. Michael rolled his eyes.

"You know," he said while stretching out, "that's kinda funny, considering I did all the hard work earlier…" Zeke seemed as though he was trying to think up some sort of smart-ass comeback, but couldn't come up with anything.

"Whatever. C'mon, though, seriously. We're here." Michael rolled his eyes in response.

"Alright, alright." He grabbed his equipment and hoisted it over his shoulder, making his way down the familiar path into the base. Once inside, Zeke went on his way whereas Michael headed to their armory. Hanging the suit in its respective case, he shut it for the last time over the course of his time off. Now all he had to do was turn in the concealable camera that he had used during his last mission. But before he brought the device to the Commander, Michael decided to visit the girls. Hopefully Ver would have calmed down by now.

As he fumbled through his pocket for the key to his room, he noticed something off. The door was slightly open. _Huh… that's strange?_ He walked inside and looked around. Usually, there was at least one of them nearby to greet him every time he returned, but at the moment he couldn't find a single one of them. "Girls?" Silence was his response. He checked both of the bedrooms, only to find himself truly alone in their quarters. _Where are they?_ _Did they go out for the day?_ He shut and locked the door behind him. They must be somewhere in the base. _Shit,_ he thought _, I hope they're all together._ It would be a hell of a time to find them if they weren't.

The vibration in his pocket shifted his attention away from the girls' whereabouts. "Hello?"

"You comin' to deliver the camera?" Wesley asked.

"Course. I'll swing by your office as soon as I find the girls."

"Your pokémon?"

"Yeah. They must be wandering around somewhere." The Commander cleared his throat.

"Well, I wouldn't worry about a thing. Only so many places they could have gone. Go ahead and bring me the footage, and we'll look for those five afterwards."

"Alright, I'll meet ya at the office."

"Yeah, about that - I've been moving stuff around as of lately, so it's kinda a mess in there. Why don't you meet me over here in the Battle Arena? Only a floor away from you at the moment." Michael agreed to the proposition, but couldn't help but note the oddity of it. _Why would he be at the Battle Arena?_ Maybe he was currently watching a battle - it was always fun to watch military-trained pokémon go at it. Wesley didn't have a pokémon as far as Michael knew, though, so the Commander participating in a battle himself was off the table.

He got on the elevator once more, heading to his unseemly destination. Perhaps he and the girls should start utilizing the facility. Hell, there probably wouldn't be anyone that would be able to take them down, but it would surely be a lot of fun for them. Not to mention a way to make a bit of extra cash on the side. That is, if anyone was willing to take them on. _Might not be very likely, considering our last battle…_

After a couple of wrong turns, Michael eventually found a set of double doors. _Alright, that has to be it._ He pushed them open, and instantly remembered what had slipped his mind. The Commander, Zeke, the girls - somehow even Groudon himself - all stood there waiting for him.

"Happy birthday!" his girls shouted.

 **. . . . .**

The Secretary of Defense stood tall at the podium, his aging body unable to conceal the posture and heart of the soldier he had once been. Connor's stern gaze was caught perfectly by the cameras, and he was speaking without a script. _He's seriously gonna do the whole thing off the top of his head_ , Michael thought in awe. The news anchors had fallen silent as the country prepared to listen to what he had to say. He cleared his throat, then began to speak.

"No doubt that the recent commotion near the border has been on everyone's mind lately. I am here today to put to rest the unease regarding this unanticipated series of operations." He paused for a moment, likely in consideration for how to best convey the information. "The truth is that we have been combatting an enemy without a face." Voices began to chatter among the audience, displaying the discomfort in the room for all throughout the country to see. "Mind you," he said in a permeating, yet flat tone, "that we are not at war. Not even close. Our special forces have done a phenomenal job of eliminating threats wherever they may appear, and they have been instrumental in keeping both the people of Kanto and Johto from danger.

Now, of course, the question is this: what have we been dealing with over these past years? The truth is unnerving to say the least, but this country of ours has always been willing to face reality, however intimidating it may be. The cause of concern was initially traced to several accounts of missing humans and pokémon a few years ago, initially discovered in the manifestation of the Hoenn Massacre back in 2030. Those responsible for the atrocity have formed a nameless organization that places no value on the lives of people - one that only sees dollar signs in place of morality. They have been selling their captives into prostitution and slavery, running drug markets, and are responsible for the attempted elimination of legendary pokémon." Following the end of Connor's statement was a loud chorus of voices - order had been completely lost within the room as reporters began launching one question after another. "I would ask that everyone remain silent," Connor said over everyone. "I will be taking questions afterwards." After a few moments, the voices died down and Connor was able to resume speaking once again.

"I am sure that, among the many things on everyone's mind right now, is the inquiry of whether or not there is need for concern. The answer to that is no - at the very moment of this revelation, our armed forces have demolished nearly every single part of this organization - their bases, their products, and even their leadership, on top of liberating thousands upon thousands of hostages. Over these past few days, we have carried out raids, as well as assassinations, to ensure that people of this sort do not gain access to our land for their business. No, we will not condone the likes of them and the market they wish to bring here. So mass mobilization was needed to stop whomever would try to cross the border, and any who already lived in this region were eliminated.

This is why many of our men have been stationed out in Kanto this past year. We have devoted many of our resources to uprooting this organization, and now, that job is just about complete. All that is left for us to do is go after the head of the snake. As a result of the cooperative efforts between us and our allies in the CIC, all of the regions will be able to enjoy the peace of mind that came before these thugs sprung up. Despite what it may have looked like, we continue to have exemplary relations with Kanto, whose assistance has been invaluable in defeating this enemy." Connor concluded his announcement, and the questions began. "For the love of Arceus, one at a time," he said in irritation. Quickly he selected the nearest reporter to settle the noise.

"You said that the armed forces are currently engaged in this conflict, though this organization is nearly destroyed."

"That is correct," Connor answered.

"Are you able to disclose this so-called 'head of the snake' that you mentioned?"

"I cannot release that information, but rest be assured that he is being tirelessly pursued. We will take him out." He pointed to another reporter.

"How long are military personnel expected to remain on the border?" she asked.

"Indefinitely. Just for precautionary measures, both us and the CIC have secured each side of the border to ensure that any those who with bad intentions do not enter this country."

"But how," the reporter continued, "will this effect regular citizens? How does the military plan to distinguish the good from the bad?"

"Excellent question," he responded. "Unfortunately, the fact is that we cannot always separate those who would mean us harm from the average person - if we were able to do this, then we wouldn't have had issues with traffickers within our own boundaries. The only way to ensure that we keep the bad ones out is to temporarily enact a total travel ban between the two regions."

"A complete ban? So common people will not be able to cross?" the reporter asked, with a shocked tone in her voice.

"Unfortunately so. With this current situation, we have decided against taking any risks whatsoever. Though a total travel ban does bring about inconvenience to the innocent, it is our belief that a sex trafficking market opening within our borders is something far worse than a temporary cease on trans-regional transportation." The answer seemed to satisfy this particular reporter, who abstained from asking any further questions.

"You stated that the terrorists had been attempting to eliminate legendary pokémon. Why would they be doing this?" a third reporter asked.

"Well," Connor replied to him, "we aren't quite sure of that ourselves. We believe that the reason lies in the fact that legendaries are a threat to them - a threat that would stand up to their detestable ways. So they chose to capture them, and possibly try to coerce them into joining their side. If they refused, then they decided upon draining the very life from them."

"W-what? But why draining?"

"They are formidable creatures, are they not? Consider the sheer amount of power that can be generated from one - millions of dollars' worth is my guess. And they had several."

"So generating electricity?" The reporter immediately seized upon the opportunity. "So then this would have been what the battle at the Power Plant was about!"

"Yes. That mission was implemented in order to rescue several legendaries that had been captured by the traffickers. However, the CIC took the reigns on that particular mission - we only helped supply the weaponry."

"That's not entirely true," he said back to Connor. "You all also supplied _that_ Reaper." _Ah, fuck._ But before he could say another word, Connor cut him off.

"I am able to offer the public with information regarding the foreign threats that we have been facing, but I will _not_ disclose anything related to one of our soldiers. Goodnight." The Secretary walked off stage, ignoring any following questions as he exited the screen's view. _Thanks for that…_

He shut off the television, then rubbed the sleeping flygon's shoulder. She had only been upset because of the fact that he had taken work both during the course of his time off _and_ his birthday, but had been understanding when everything was said and done. Before long, they wouldn't need to worry about stuff like this anymore. The world would be a much safer place once the rest of the fragmented trafficking organization was eliminated. But there was one thing standing in their way. One single person. He carefully slipped his phone out of his pocket and opened the picture of the enemy.

To any, he looked as any other trainer, but when one looked closer, the devil could clearly be seen in Douglas's eyes. _We're coming for you, you son of a bitch._ And perhaps his hatred was contagious - that sceptile didn't look much better. She seemed to replicate her trainer's innermost desires of wiping out those who didn't agree with violence. It was now upon his newly careful examination of the photo that Michael caught something that he hadn't before. The bracelet she wore which held her mega stone had something written on it - had it not been slightly tilted towards the camera, it would have been impossible to notice. He scrolled in slightly to magnify the letters, and was finally able to make out the text. Michael simply sat there, his eyes unable to look away from the screen as he repeated the name over and over again in his head. _Raptor_.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:**

 **Hey, good to see you all again! Since this is the closest update to the date, think it's worth mentioning that this fanfic is now (about) one year old! Glad that it wasn't just a phase that I picked up and was eventually going to get bored of.**

 **Now, I think it's only fair to warn everyone that the next chapter might take me some time to write - there is going to be a _lot_ to cover. I'm thinking it'll be the length of one of my older chapters. Once you read this chapter, you'll understand why that is. Trying not to spoil anything, you know? Anyways, hope that you all enjoy reading the latest addition to the story. Also be sure to check out _Into Darkness_ if you enjoy my style of writing. **

**One year later and I still don't own pokémon...**

 **Thanks again to Lunar Knight Archangel for peer reviewing and proofreading! Glad to have ya back man!**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **Fighting terrorism is not unlike fighting a deadly cancer. It can't be treated just where it's visible - every diseased cell in the body must be destroyed.**

 **-David Hackworth**

* * *

 **Ch. 21 - The Second Tour**

The days rushed by, and the first of March creeped upon them, signaling the beginning of the Twenty-Fifth Squad's second tour. Michael, Zeke, and the Commander stood at the base's landing port as they watched the Chinook approach from the distance. After nearly four months, Michael would be reunited with the rest of the only family that he had left. He grinned as he imagined what the ride may have been like - Alex rambling on and on about some new technological advance that nobody else likely cared about, or Thomas and Samuel trying intently to overlook the other.

But with whatever tensions may be among the Twenty-Fifth, they would stop at nothing to finish what they had started and destroy the remnants of Douglas's creation. And when the time came, none of them would hesitate to put a bullet in his head. _All in due time…_ Right now, he was more focused on the helicopter as it landed.

"Well, I guess this means we're officially back to work," Zeke stated.

"Maybe. But if all goes according to plan, then we will effectively postpone the need for our services. Once we've put Stone in the ground, Kanto should finally be stable, and everything will calm down."

The helicopter touched down on the landing pad, and soon, the five Reapers on board stepped out.

 **. . . . .**

After the reunion, Commander Hawkins scheduled a meeting for the start of their second tour of duty. Mainly, he had said, the point of the discussion would be to highlight their plans for the upcoming months.

"So to recap what's happened as of recently: Stone's admins have been taken care of, and with the death of Higgs and the seizing of their financial assets, they are in a world of hurt. My guess is that they are being extremely cautious of every move they make. We've shut the border down indefinitely until we are absolutely certain that every last person involved in trafficking has either been killed or captured. For the time being, his father is also in our custody. Granted, Steven's voting record suggests that he doesn't see eye-to-eye with his son, but we cannot take any chances. Not when Douglas has sold as many lives as he has, and certainly not if he plans to bring about a civil war in Johto."

"Wait, you've brought in the champion of Hoenn?" Kevin asked. "What the hell is that gonna do to their league?"

"That's their problem," Wesley said with a shrug. "In our defense, Hoenn is not having to deal with traffickers on their front door. At least, not as of recently. It wouldn't exactly be wise for them to fight us on this, either. This is by far for the greater good."

"Fair enough."

"Do not fret over the champion's wellbeing. He is anything but a prisoner here, and has been cooperative in every manner. Likely you'll see him wandering around the base. But back to the situation at hand - as of now, both the Reaper program and the CIC are diverting all resources to taking down Stone."

"That's good to hear," Thomas said.

"Yeah," Samuel added. "Shit, if he manages to spark a conflict here, people like Michael and I will be some of the first to be targeted." Admittedly, though, that was a good point. _Both Ethan and The Assembly mentioned their hate of relationships between pokémon and humans…_

"Wouldn't surprise me one bit," Wesley replied. "That, as well as the fact that we don't want our fucking country to break apart, is the reason that Stone is our number one priority. As we speak, Kanto is being throughly searched in an effort to locate his main quarters. When we find him, that part of the map won't be habitable for the next hundred years. We will call in an airstrike unmatched by any non-nuclear detonation."

"Hell yeah," Kevin said.

"But, until that day comes, we are to be ready to shut down any operations that he attempts otherwise. And that brings us to what we'll be doing this upcoming week. As a result of the sheer loss of personnel Douglas's organization has suffered, chances are that he's gonna need more people - both for grunt work and the higher-up stuff. Our sources suggest that he may be planning a prison break in Pewter in order to fill some vacancies."

"Arceus, that'd be chaotic. Kanto has had more than its fair share of instability for the decade. I don't know what a prison break would do over there," Michael stated.

"Nothing good, that's for sure. If we find the rumor to be true, then we will act accordingly. In the meantime, I expect you each to be ready as you usually would. It is still very well possible that we may dispatch any of you at a moment's notice."

After he had concluded, the Reapers were given permission to leave. As soon as they left the room, Michael released his five pokémon.

"Sooo… how'd it go?" Layla asked.

"About the same as it usual does. Need to be ready like always."

"So nothing's changed then," Charlotte said. She lightly shook her head, before noticing Samuel among the others. "Hey there. Long time no see. Do you have Nicole with you?" He simply rolled his eyes before withdrawing the ball from his pocket and releasing the golden vulpine. The two foxes wasted no time in speaking with one another, almost as though they hadn't conversed in ages, when in reality it had only been a matter of days since their last video chat.

"Cackling like a bunch of children," Ver murmured.

"Hell, I should probably let mine out too," Alex said, before doing just that and letting Lillian and Greninja join the others.

"How was everyone's break?" Michael asked as they headed towards the stairs.

"Not very eventful," Alex admitted. "Kinda a relief to be back, you know?"

"Gonna _really_ be a relief when Douglas is outta the picture," said John.

"Seriously, his time can't come soon enough. For him and The Assembly," Thomas added, receiving a slightly irritated look Samuel.

"Oh? Thought you might actually be supportive of those assholes." _Fuck, Samuel. Why'd you have to go and say that?_ But to everyone's surprise, Thomas shook his head.

"No. I've been giving everything a hell of a lot of thought these past couple of months. I'm no alt-rightist." Samuel wasn't expecting to hear that; that was for sure.

"So then you've had a change in beliefs?" The large Reaper took time in giving his answer as he carefully selected his words.

"I don't think so. I never supported their violent methods… and I can't get behind their ideals, for that matter."

"Well that's a shocker," Samuel replied.

"I don't believe it," Nicole piped up. "You dislike pairings like ours, and you're disgusted by our union. Though Sammy's done nothing to earn your hate, he still has it. All because he has the feelings he does." Her words came out in a fiery, bitter tone, and if looks could kill…

"Look… how someone else lives their life is none of my business. I've come to realize that, and I'm sorry for the shit I said awhile ago. But I never said that I hated you, Sam, even though I disliked what you were doing at the time. I'm sick of all the walking on thin ice, for fuck's sake." Despite his previously angered demeanor, Samuel was caught in a situation where he wasn't sure how to respond. But unlike him, Nicole had something to say.

"Well if that's the case, that's good to hear. But what you said… you've got me wondering…" Nicole said to Thomas.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well… you said that you disliked what we were doing at the time… what changed that view?" _Good luck getting out of this one, bud._

"I uhh… I just came to think that there really isn't anything wrong with it…"

"Uh huh, sure…" Nicole didn't sound too convinced by the tone of her voice. "And that's it? You just up and decided that it was time for a change of heart?"

"…Yep."

"Alright, if you say so…" _Hell if she's not onto you Thomas._

"I mean… what's the harm in it? It's not immoral or anything. If it was, Arceus wouldn't have made reproduction a possibility. I just think that the people like Stone who would advocate for killing those in such a relationship need a bullet to the head," he said, as though trying to throw Nicole off of his trail. His words, though, had an unintended effect.

"I understand why you would feel that way," a voice to the side said. They turned to look at its origin, and came to face none other than the champion of Hoenn himself.

"…Shit. Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—."

"No, as I said, I understand," the older trainer said. "I would be ready to put an end to Douglas as well if I were in your position. After all he's done…" The silver-haired trainer looked nothing like how he did on television - the casual yet sharp look that he had always been known to display had been replaced with that of emptiness; a look of emptiness that Michael had very well experienced.

"I'm sorry for how he turned out," John said.

"It just… doesn't make sense," Steven said, shaking his head. "He hadn't talked about any of it. All of a sudden, he's gone one day and authorities are raiding my house. I hadn't heard a word about him ever since he took off… and then I get told all of this…"

"It just really hits home, doesn't it?" Michael asked. "You never see it coming."

"See, he actually went through something similar," Alex said, before shooting Michael a glance. "That is… if you don't mind me telling him…"

"No it's fine. I've come to terms with it all."

"Michael here got hit up with the news that his father worked for Douglas as the second-in-command of the whole shitshow."

"I'm… sorry to hear that," Steven said. "How were you able to cope?"

"Not easily. At least, not at first. I wouldn't say we were really close to begin with, but… it still hurt to find out that he was doing what he was doing. But really, it forced me to think about where my priorities were. And you know what I came to realize? Everyone that's really important to me is in this building. I didn't need the father that would rather kill those he doesn't agree with."

"What did you do?"

"Well, I made the mistake of confronting him about his profession - if you can even call it that. I should've waited for us to take him into custody, but I wasn't thinking clearly. I wanted to know then and there, you know? Well that worked out _great_. I told him that him and the others in his organization had no souls - that they were worst than the people they sought to do away with. But what really got to him was when I told him I was involved with my girls here."

"Not supportive?" Steven asked.

"You could say that. He tried to kill me."

"Oh…"

"He died that night; I put a bullet right in his heart. I don't know how much this supposed to help - you clearly still have some sense of attachment to Douglas."

"He's my son. Of course…"

"Maybe. It takes more than genetics to make a family. I will say that I am right-winged - _very_ \- but I despised everything about what Ethan Higgs and all those who worked for him stood for. I am not related to that; he is not my family." He motioned to his fellow Reapers and his girls. "This is."

"That is… a good point," Steven said, "but Douglas is still my child…"

"And he is still our target," Kevin said, clearly without consideration for the champion's circumstance.

"I understand that. But if I could ask anything of you all and your authorities, it would be that you bring him in alive." Despite his prominence, his desperation was apparent - his desperation for them to spare the life of the sole person responsible for several thousand ruined lives.

"You know we don't have much of a say in that," John replied. "We are prepared to do what we need to - that is, if we even have a hand in the confrontation at all. More than likely an airstrike will be called in right on his ass. I'm sorry… but I don't know what else to tell you…"

"Alright," Steven said with a nod, "I guess I'll just have to hope for a miracle." He stood silently, likely letting it all sink in. It was unlikely he'd ever see his son again - not alive, at least. That was a sickening thought, but not one that Michael could offer any insight towards. Why the champion could still harvest some sense of positive emotion towards a terrorist he had no idea. He had quickly come to terms with Ethan's death, hadn't he? Why couldn't the champion severe ties with Douglas? Maybe it was just something about being a parent that Michael didn't understand - having brought someone like this into the world.

Steven left their presence soon after, leaving them uncertain as to his next course of action. The larger-than-life character that the media had displayed had not been present over the course of their discussion. No one could say for certain how all this would affect Steven's career; only time would tell.

 **. . . . .**

The call had come two days later. The Commander had alerted the Reapers that they had indeed confirmed the intentions of the terrorists - a full-scale prison break was their plan to retrieve more thugs for grunt work. The plan of engagement was to assign Reapers over the perimeter of the Rossner Correctional Facility and to have over two dozen CIC personnel on standby.

"Wait… three of us are going?" Thomas asked.

"Yes. With the previous unrest at the border, we need to keep some specials ready to go at all times," Wesley replied. "So it's been decided that you, Samuel, and Alex will remain here while Kevin, Michael, and John will head to Rossner. Since you won't be playing a part in this mission, the three of you are now excused." As such, they got up and left.

"Now here's the map of the area of interest." The table lit up, and a display of the prison complex and the surrounding areas appeared. The Rossner Correctional Facility bordered the outskirts of town, with a series of apartments stretching along the east side of the building. Nearly two-hundred yards south of the entrance was a small branch off of the main highway system, which veered away and towards Route 16, and rolling hills were the sole occupants of the northern and western corners of the map.

"As you all can see, the enemies could be come from any direction. The highway would provide for a means for them to move large amounts of forces relatively quickly, so we're going to have to blockade it. That leaves the apartments and the hills. It would be highly unlikely that they would attack from the north or west, since they'd be exposed, so I'll be shifting our focus to the apartment complex. The CIC will be taking care of the highway and the more vacant areas, just to make sure we don't leave anything uncovered. More than likely though they'll make their appearance from one of these buildings. If that happens, the CICs will gradually make their way towards you."

"So where exactly are we going to wait?" John asked. "I mean, if we rush in there in full suit, that'd be more than obvious…"

"Our sources suggest that the attack will take place from any time between midnight and two in the morning. Darkness is on our side here."

"Makes sense."

"So the three of you will keep on the lookout for anything unusual. Thinking that here might be a good area for coverage," he said, pointing towards the tall, wooden fence surrounding the apartment complex. "If you see anything suspicious, then don't hesitate to infiltrate the buildings."

"How do you prefer we take them out?" John asked.

"Whatever works best. I'll leave that up to the three of you to decide when the time comes."

"Alright."

"Well, I suggest that you all get some rest. You've each got a long flight ahead of you in the morning."

Once they had left the room, Michael was stopped rather abruptly by Alaina. "Hold your horses," she giggled. "How did it go?" she asked sweetly.

"Great," he said, pulling her into a hug. "I uhh…"

"You're going on a mission, aren't you?"

"…How'd you know?"

"Why else would you be called in there?

"Good point," he admitted. "Yeah, we just got booked for a mission tomorrow. I swear, every time it seems like we've taken care of the last remnants of Stone's organization, some other sorry son of a bitch pops up and messes shit up."

"Such is the nature of your job." She gave him a soft kiss to the cheek, then nuzzled into his neck. "Well, I guess you better hurry up and speak with Zeke."

"Huh?"

"He wanted to talk with you about a very important matter. He was so awkward, too - coming and asking for permission from the rest of us."

"Permission? For what?" She simply smiled and shook her head.

"That's for him to say. He asked to speak with you about it in private." _Huh, that's strange._

"Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all. But this is a topic that the two of you need to discuss. Just don't be too late, alright?"

"Alright." The two of them walked hand-in-hand down to the residency hall, where Alaina went into their quarters and left him to himself. "And hey," she had said, "be sure to take it easy on him. He's really nervous about this." Whatever that meant, Michael would have to find out in a moment.

He approached the zoroark's quarters and knocked. It only took a few seconds for the door to open - he had surely been expecting a visitor. "Hey bud. You wanted to see me?"

"Yeah…" he replied in an uncertain, almost distant, voice.

"Lighten up man. Surely something couldn't have gone wrong. Not here, at least." He nodded, closing the door behind him.

"No, nothing's wrong. I'm just… not sure how to go about this."

"Bud - it's me. Not like you're in for a job interview or some shit like that." Zeke took a seat at the table, followed by Michael. "So what's up?" He paused for a second, then took a deep breath.

"I've given a lot of thought to this lately," he started. "About what the hell I'm gonna do after the military…"

"You're not thinking about calling it quits on us, are you?" Michael asked.

"Nah - not for awhile, at least. But the truth is… the day'll come when I won't be cut out for this line of work anymore. Not everyone is immortal, ya know."

"…That's true."

"I've been in for years now, and hadn't really taken into consideration what I was going to do - where I was going to go. I don't have any family; I was taken in by a shelter when I was young. Once I've hit the point where I can't keep up any longer, I'll have nowhere to go. The wild… that shit just ain't for everyone - definitely not for me. Nor is that whole captured lifestyle. So to be frank about it, I wasn't really sure what the hell to do."

"Well… you've got a good bit of time before you need to worry about anything."

"For now, but one day I won't. Not gonna let myself get caught off guard with something like this."

"Gotcha…"

"So," Zeke continued, "I was thinking it over the other day… and… you can legally possess one more member of your team…"

"Yeah, that's tru—wait… what?" Michael asked. "I thought you weren't into the battling thing…" If this hadn't come out of the blue…

"I'm not - not really. But I know your style. You don't keep the others in their balls, and I doubt you'd _make_ any of them battle if they didn't want to."

"No, I'd never do that." As much as they loved the fights, Michael had no intentions of starting out in battling. All he had wanted was companionship in the girls, and he had received all that and more. "No, my girls have always been the most valuable part of my life, and I'd never force a single one of them to do something they didn't want to."

"I know. That's why… I mean, if you're up for it…"

"Zeke," Michael said, cutting him off, "you know I'd be up for that. You're like a brother to me, and I'd be more than happy to have you join us." But there was still something that Michael didn't understand. The zoroark had previously taken pride in his independence - he didn't need the help of a trainer to make a living for himself. Granted, Michael was more than happy to help his comrade, but it seemed like such an odd thing for him to ask. What had sparked this? "Although… I can't help but wonder - what made you change your mind? I thought you didn't want a trainer…"

"You're right - I didn't. But there's a difference between a trainer and a friend. All this time I've been with the Reapers, you haven't treated me like a pokémon _once._ Me or your girls. I could live with that. Not being belittled, or forced to fight like some caged animal. And I know that you wouldn't do that to me." He tapped his metal-coated claws on the table, anticipating Michael's response. "So uhh… what do you say about that?"

"I think that we just got the sixth member of our team."

 **. . . . .**

The girls had only positive things to say about the decision, commenting on how timid he had been in first asking them. When the time came, Zeke would leave with them, making their team a completed one. And as for the issue regarding his lifespan, Alaina could simply give him the ability that she had bestowed upon all of them. And that wouldn't be an issue for at least another ten or fifteen years.

Plans of the future after the conflict filled his mind. Maybe they could buy a nice suburban home and Michael could finally put his degree to use. Or he could stay within the ranks of the military and pursue a career as a commander, or perhaps even a general. No one said he had to leave, and his experience could prove useful in advising and training the future generations of Reapers. One thing was certain, though - for now, he was happy. From the bonds he had formed here in the military to the glaceon cuddled into his side, he truly did have everything he could possibly want.

Michael figured that he better be mindful of the Commander's words. After all, he would be on a helicopter in less than nine hours. _Yeah, should probably get to sleep._ "Alright sweetie, I think I better call it a night. Gotta head out early in the morning."

"Oh, alright." She lay her head onto his chest and softly sighed as he caressed her chin.

"Want me to keep the TV on?"

"No, that's okay." Michael reached for the remote. He hadn't really been paying attention to the mythological movie that had been playing; rather, he was more focused on his alone time with Elise. But as he shot a quick glance at the screen, Michael couldn't help but feel mesmerized by the ominous scene before him.

A trio of gardevoirs, their natural elegance tainted from countless millennia of aging, surrounded a small, rounded table. One held a spindle in her shaking hand, then stretched out the coiled string to its full length. The one adjacent to her quickly measured it, then nodded to the final sister.

"The time has come," she all but whispered. The third gardevoir grabbed a small instrument from the shadows - shears . The other two stretched the string out, to which she placed the razor sharp tool around the midpoint. The camera drifted over the table, and a light snap sounded as the string was cut.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:**

 **Hello again! Hope that life's been treating you all well!** **Not going to state anything regarding these next few chapters. I'll be back to some _real_ (or more real?) author's notes before long. You'll understand once you read.**

 **Over 30,000 views and 200,000 words. You guys are great!**

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 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"Underestimation of a person's intelligence, strength, and aggression just makes you less prepared. Expect anything from anyone."**

 **-Sonya Teclai**

* * *

 **Ch. 22 - Counterstrike**

The deathly silence of early morning permeated the air around the towering prison. Guards occupied the towers as they always did, unaware of the fact that dozens of soldiers stood by ready to engage at any sign of conflict. Among the militants were the three Reapers, keeping watch of the apartment complex with their night vision activated.

A great deal of planning had gone into this mission. On each side of the heavily-armored CH-47 Chinook that had brought them there was an M134 minigun and an M240, as well as the daunting 50 caliber, tri-barreled GAU-19 mounted on the cargo ramp - all of which would utterly decimate any enemies that didn't arrive to the battlefield in tanks. Surely the traffickers wouldn't have access to those. Should they need such firepower, all they would have to do was retreat a few hundred meters over the hillside, and any ground forces foolish enough to continue fighting would be met with a brutal end.

And yet, despite all these preparations, nothing seemed out of line in the slightest. Dozens of armed personnel on stand by, and tens of thousands in weaponry alone, and it seemed as though not a shot would be fired. Nothing but the unnerving tranquility within the dark.

"I don't like this shit man," Kevin said over the comm. "This place is way too dead for my liking."

"Here's hoping that it stays that way," John muttered. "Do you _want_ to get into a firefight?"

"Maybe."

"Okay, dumbass." Kevin simply ignored the comment, and instead shifted his focus towards the top balconies of the apartments.

"Still, need to keep watch over those five," he said, referring to the group of lit rooms they had taken note of scattered about the second and third floors. "Bit late for that many people to still be up…" One had the curtains parted and the doors opened, which could give anyone inside a possible vantage point over the prison.

"Especially that one," Michael said. "Bravo Team, any news so far?"

"Nothing," the leader of the CIC squad replied. "Highway's practically dead, and only a bunch of morons would try to invade near that Chinook."

"Think they'll be coming from our side," John said. "Be ready to back us if that happens."

"Sure thing."

They waited tensely, each clutching their rifles as they kept watch over the apartment complex. A light breeze drifted over the field, making the grass sway almost hypnotically and serving to be the one lone sound aside from their own breathing. The curtains within the room of interest lightly moved side to side as though taunting them. But as intently focused on their positions, the Reapers simply were not seeing any sort of action.

"Well… this is kinda a waste of time," Kevin said.

"We still got awhile to go, so shut the hell up and pay attention," John said.

"Whatever." Time dragged along, with everyone keeping mostly to themselves. That is, until a member of the CIC spoke up.

"We've got company on our side," he said.

"What's it look like?" Michael asked.

"An eighteen wheeler. He just parked on the side—shit, he's getting out now."

"Is he armed?" the Bravo Team Leader asked.

"…No, doesn't look like it. He's opening the hatch out back though." Instinctively, Michael flipped the safety off of his rifle. A few more moments, then he followed up in a much less concerned tone. "Ah, false alarm. He's gettin' shit to change a flat."

"Alright." The visors showed the time to be 3:34 - much later than anything they had been expecting. Perhaps this had been a false alarm. Intel could be wrong occasionally; that was just a given. There was only so much an undercover spy could obtain without seeming too suspicious, especially when the enemies in question were as careful as these were in covering their tracks. But then again, Johto was impeccable at gathering information, and everything they had learned about the traffickers had been pretty accurate until now.

"Commander, what's the plan now?" John inquired.

"Wait it out for a few more hours. If nothing happens by six-thirty, then it's clearly a bust. Surely they wouldn't try anything in broad daylight. The three of you can head back to base then."

"It still doesn't make sense," Michael added. "We've been right about every single mission of theirs up until this point. What gives now?"

"I'm not sure," Wesley admitted. "My guess is they might've had a change of plans. Maybe rethought the whole thing. As though breaking into one of the most secure prisons in Kanto might not have been such a good idea."

"True. But then again, that shit hasn't stopped them before. They took an entire fucking _city._ "

"Yeah… I don't see what's going on with all this. They should be here by now," Kevin said. John stayed silent, despite this, and kept his attention towards the apartments. He then responded quietly.

"Movement."

"What? Where?"

"Third story, far right," John replied. "Give 'em a second. He was just there." Sure enough, a shadowy figure could be seen within the illuminated room. He appeared to be holding a large, cylindrical object as he reached for something else.

"What the hell is that?" Kevin asked. Just then, the other object was turned in a way that allowed for the Reapers to immediately understand what it was.

"Fuck! He's got a SMAW!" Michael said.

"That's them alright! Go get 'em."

The three sprung to their feet and sprinted towards the apartments. Michael didn't even want to think about how much damage they could cause with that—several soldiers or prison guards if aimed carefully. They couldn't give them that opportunity.

John took position right underneath the room as planned, ready to dispose of anyone who tried to make it to the balcony, while Michael and Kevin rushed up the stairs. Despite Kevin's speed, Michael maintained in front for a single purpose - he rammed the door with al his might, breaking it right off the hinges. Before anyone knew what had happened, the two Reapers were inside the side bedroom with their weapons raised. And yet, if something wasn't off before, it definitely was now.

Three were there - all of them looking to be in their forties, but with that unmistakeable look that only a toned, experienced soldier could give. They had moved the desk towards the side of the room, where they were playing cards and taking shots of brandy. As though nothing were amiss - like there weren't explosives and assault rifles on the bed.

"Y'all gonna stand there all stupid-like or what?" one of them - a tall, heavily tattooed individual- asked.

"Wh… what the hell is going on here?" Kevin asked, dumbfounded.

"Well if it isn't apparent, Taylor, Abe and I in the middle of a game of—."

"Like I give a shit," Michael interjected. "All of you put your fucking hands up!"

"Damn kid. You need to cool it," another individual - Taylor - said. Michael pointed the barrel towards his head, and he simply raised his hands nonchalantly, followed by the other two. "As you can see, we ain't got nothin' on us."

"Commander… what's going on here?"

"Hell if I know. These fools are playing it off like it's no big deal… I don't like this."

"How many of you are there?" Kevin asked.

"Just us," replied Abe.

"I'm not screwing around with you!"

"Neither am I. It's just the three of us."

"Check their shit," Michael said to Kevin, keeping his Tavor pointed towards them. Kevin paused for a moment.

"Hawk… you gettin' all this?"

"I am…"

"Fuck…"

"What is it?" John asked.

"This is some top of the line stuff. Each of these rifles here is decked out. My guess is at least six apiece. And all this explosive shit… That SMAW, C4, at least a dozen or so grenades… What the hell…"

"Where'd you get all this shit?!"

"Compliments of Doug," the third guy said. "Figured we'd go all out. Impressed, aren't you?"

"What… what are we gonna do Commander?" Kevin asked silently over the comm. "Wasn't expecting to take prisoners…"

"Neither was I," Wesley admitted. "As fucked as it sounds… they're not a threat at the moment. We can't kill them…"

"You sure?"

"Unfortunately. They're protected by law. Looks like the three of you'll have company for the ride home. I wouldn't take my eyes off of them for a second though."

"Got that right," Michael said. That much went without saying. As he stood ready to empty his magazine into whoever decided to test them, several CIC members arrived, including the Team Leader.

"Wes gave us the update," he said. "Prison's on full alert now. We were able to grab some cuffs from the guards there." One of the other soldiers wasted no time in apprehending the three traffickers.

"Was what he said true? Were they the only ones here?"

"We scanned the premises and didn't find anyone else. Right now, we got guys going through the rooms below us. I don't think they were lying." The three of them would need to be taken in for extensive interrogation; none of it seemed to make any sense. What had they been waiting for? Why didn't they strike? And why in the hell were they so played back as their plan had been compromised? These were but a few of the questions running through Michael's mind at the moment, and it all brought a daunting sense of unease.

They were frisked and escorted out of the room while Michael and Kevin stood over the weapons. "Damn," Bravo Team's leader said, "even we don't get gear this good…"

 **. . . . .**

The three traffickers found themselves cuffed with their hands behind their back, and with Kevin and John on the opposite side of the aisle, with their pistols ready. They especially couldn't take risks when the aircraft they were flying on had as much weaponry as theirs did. Even the slightest unwarranted movement would be fatal to the traffickers.

Michael sat against the minigun, currently engaged in a silent conversation with the others. "It just doesn't make any sense," he kept saying. "Not a one of them put up fight, yet they were armed like they were about to take on an army."

"I mean, I'm sure as hell not complaining," John said. "But yeah… something seems off about the whole thing to say the very least. Like they wanted to get captured."

"You sure? We frisked them and they don't have anything on them. And not like it's in their best interests to attack, given their current situation," Kevin added.

"Whatever the hell they hoped to accomplish is beyond me," Michael stated.

"Won't do 'em any good now," Wesley responded. "Rest be assured - we'll find out whatever the hell they were going for. Though these guys look like they'll take awhile to break…"

"Yeah…"

The Chinook came to a landing at the nearest airport minutes after it had taken off. A refueling stop was necessary if they were to make it back to the base in an uninterrupted trip. They had no plans to remain there any longer than they needed, though, and everyone sat in relative silence while the workers outside went about their twenty minute endeavor of refilling the aircraft's sizable tank.

"I'd like to shoot that stupid-ass grin off his face," Kevin said, referring to the guy in the center. He seemed to be in his own world - not like he was getting ready to face interrogation of the most painful type or anything.

"He won't be smiling for long," the Commander said. "In an hour, he and the others are going to experience complete and utter hell. Maybe some resemblance of what they've put others through…"

"Doubt that they could experience that in one lifetime."

The guy outside had finished refueling the Chinook, and the pilots were given the signal by the aircraft marshal. The helicopter whirred to life once again, and they were gone as quickly as they had arrived. As they climbed into the air, the orange hues could be seen climbing up from the horizon. Still too damn early. Once they got back, he could sure as hell go for another hour or two of sleep.

"Ah, so you all must be the Twenty-Fifth, huh?" Abe asked, taking note of the number on the dagger sheathed at John's side.

"Good. You know your numbers," Kevin replied. Abe seemed to ignore the comment altogether.

"You Grim by chance?" he asked Michael. "I mean shit, can't see a damn thing through those masks, but you look like you fit the profile."

"Yep."

"Why the hell'd you tell him?" asked John.

"Ain't like they're gonna be telling anyone. Not where they're going. Plus, they know what the hell I look like if they've seen the news."

"Huh, kinda a shame they sent ya out here," Abe said. _What the hell does he mean by that?_ Whatever - soon enough they would learn everything they had to hide.

"Also," added Taylor, "know what else is a shame? The whole fucked up situation with your father."

"He's not my father…"

"He helped bring you into this world. Like it or not, prick, he's your father. Or should say _was_." He blankly looked towards the floor, then shook his head. "Ethan… that was a good man you killed there. Been friends with him for as long as I can remember… only to be killed by some kid that doesn't know shit about what he's gotten into." Michael was trying to restrain himself from lashing out at the man - trying, he felt, in vain. But that wouldn't serve any purpose. After all, Taylor and the other two would be spending the rest of their days locked up - and that was if they weren't sentenced to death for their crimes against humanity. _No… no need to lower myself like that…_

"The others and I know full well what we've gotten ourselves into. And not a day goes by where I regret it. You will never know how rewarding it was to take out the shit Doug has built up. Shipment by shipment, brothel by brothel - hell, killing off you fuckers hasn't ever lost me one ounce of sleep. And now… we've just about destroyed every bit of what you thugs have created." Rather than taking this as an insult, Taylor just grinned.

"Alright. You go ahead and tell yourself that."

"Ignorance is bliss," said Abe.

"I don't like this shit one bit," Kevin said silently. "These assholes are planning something. Can we throw them out the hatch?"

"Sure, if you want to go to jail," Wesley answered. "But keep your weapons ready. If they try something, you know what to do."

"Tell me," Simon, the tattooed criminal, said, "do you know how this is all gonna turn out for you? What your reward is gonna be once you've walked away from it all? I'll tell ya, 'cause we sure as hell know. We lived this shit. You fools come out here and you're willing to risk your lives for all people - left and right winged. But in the end, only one of those sides'll have your back. The other will attack everything you stood for - indoctrinate the youth against you through the schools. Feed the future generations some bullshit narrative against war and against us. Call us every bad name in the book until they've somehow made us the villains. That's what happened in our country, and no one's been able to stop it. So you know what, why the hell shouldn't we take matters into our own hands?"

"Huh, guess that being politically repressed just naturally warrants trafficking…" John sneered.

"Say what you will," Simon replied, "but some of the very people you've saved are going to stand against you one day."

"When that day comes, we'll be ready to face that as well," Michael said.

 **. . . . .**

Time dragged on without much more conversation; once the traffickers figured that they had no hopes of winning the Reapers over to the alt-right, they shut up for the most part. One thing that Michael couldn't help but notice was that now, they seemed a lot more serious - the reality of their situation must have been finally setting in. Or could it be something else? Abe, despite his rough demeanor, was lightly sweating, seemingly deep in thought. In a slightly croaking voice, he spoke up.

"None of you would happen to have the time on you, would you?"

"Why do you need to know?" Kevin asked. "Ain't like you got somewhere else to be."

"I get that. Just asking."

"About a quarter till six," John said, all while tightening his grip on his pistol.

"Keep your guard up boys. I'm starting to regret having them brought up here…" Wesley said.

"Any orders?" John asked.

"….Not if they stay still. But I mean it - if one of them so much as blinks without permission, you—." The comm line went dead.

"…Commander?" Michael waited, but he received no response. "Commander Hawkins?" Moments later, and still nothing. And not only was Wesley silent, but Kevin and John couldn't be heard in the silent communication either. Michael looked over at them; they seemed equally confused.

"You too?"

"Yep. Lost him," Kevin said. "The hell happened?"

"I… I don't know…" John said. For minutes, they waited to see if the comm lines would restore, but they had no such luck.

"Shit… that could be an issue." Michael turned to face the pilot. "Hey, how long before we get back to base?"

"Won't be for at least another twenty-five, maybe thirty minutes. Something wrong?"

"Our communication line was just cut…"

"Eh, shit happens. Kinda hard to keep a signal in one of these things."

"Haven't had an issue with this before."

"First time for everything." To the side, one of the traffickers slightly moved in his seat.

"Well, guess now's as good a time as ever," said Taylor. John immediately pointed the gun at his head. "Shit, calm down son. Was just gonna let you know that I got something here. Need to stand up to get it, though." John motioned for Kevin to cautiously approach him.

"You step outta line, I blow your brains out." Slowly, Taylor got to his feet and turned around.

"Back left pocket." It was clear what he was referring to - a folded up note peaked out of the pocket in his jeans. Kevin took it out and went back to his seat.

"The hell was that?" Michael asked.

"I was asked to give you all a letter. Chances were you guys would show up to a supposed prison outbreak."

"What do you mean by 'supposed?' You all were about to level the fucking place!"

"Just read the damn letter," Simon interjected. Kevin unfolded it, then turned it the other way. The page was filled with the smallest, yet most orderly penmanship any of them had ever seen. Kevin read the letter.

 _Time flies, does it not? It seems as though one day you have everything figured out; life couldn't be going better. And then someone has to go and fuck everything up. Thousands of hired men killed, routes and shipments shut down, hundreds of millions of dollars that we had gathered - all of it wiped out in the matter of a year. I have the Twenty-Fifth to thank for that._

 _The highest members of my organization have always been supportive of troops. After all, how could one possibly find a more respectable occupation than the man who is willing to lay down his life for the safety of millions of people that he doesn_ _'t know? It is truly the most honorable of professions. But it also must be done in the service of people deserving of such protection. And that is where you all are wrong._

 _Johto has its faults, just like every country on Earth. We are humans, after all. It is by far superior to all the others in its political climate, but it will one day suffer from the same infestation that has dragged both Hoenn and Kalos to hell. Now it is working on Kanto, and despite me not being native to the region, I have dedicated my life to defending it from falling into the hands of the unworthy. The left wing is the embodiment such people, its ideals representing by nothing but jealousy, entitlement, and selfishness. As long as the world tolerates them, everything we believe to be right will be destroyed. I cannot let that happen, and am willing to make the hard decisions that need to be made to ensure the very survival of our ideology. And yet you counteract what I have tried to do._

 _The naivety of you all has only assisted the left. While we have halted the dishonest media from pushing its own agenda, secured the red districts in the polls, and have stopped the courts from ruling against the will of the honest, hardworking people, you have fought us. You are clearly not with us, so you are against us._

 _I tried to ignore you all. I really did. But you have become far too much of a thorn in my side, and the organization can bear it no longer. You have all brought me to the verge of bankruptcy and destruction, so now I must act accordingly. Though it pains me to say this, Johto has earned what is now coming._

 _I know not who all was deployed to Rossner to_ _"resolve" the situation. But to whoever the recipients of this message may be: by the time you hear this, it will have been too late. It will take years for me to rebuild what you all have destroyed, and by then we will have lost several footholds around the globe. It can and will be done, though; I am not down for the count. But you are. If any of you remain after everything's said and done, then you will come to understand what it feels like to have everything you worked so hard to protect destroyed from underneath you._

 _-Stone_

A feeling of terror had taken root within the Reapers; none of them liked where this was heading. John sprung to his feet and shoved the gun in Taylor's face. "What the fuck?! You have five seconds to explain this shit right now!"

"Are you stupid or something?" Abe retorted. "You really can't wrap your mind around _any_ of this? It was all a diversion, you stupid fuck."

"Wh…what?" A deep, rumbling sound permeated the air - like the very earth had been shook to its core. But nothing as far as the eye could see. "Arceus… what _was_ that?"

"Heh. Well, been awhile since my high school physics class to say the least, but I think the sound's caught up to us."

"What sound?" John asked.

"Why… the sound of those MOABs Douglas sent to your base." Michael leaned forward, unable to restrain the tears, unable to fight the sheer panic. Nearly everyone he cared about was within those walls. And now…

"Get this thing back now!" Kevin shouted to the pilots.

"Copy that!" the main pilot said. His tone was frantic and scared, but he was trying to keep his cool. That was something that Michael wasn't capable of doing. His vision blurred, and the scene before him seemed to occur in slow motion. Simon lunged forward, his hands freed from the handcuffs, and slammed into John. His hand shot forward as he made an effort to grab the pistol - an effort he succeeded in, following a swift elbow to the smaller Reaper's head. Michael tried to snap out of it, tried to unholster his own 9mm in time, but was only able to watch as he fired a several shots into John's torso, then one towards the front of the aircraft.

The sound of glass breaking, followed by a violent _thud_. The copilot quickly reached forward to grab the controls, bloodied from the brains of the pilot. Kevin was the first to react, swiftly taking up his pistol and rapidly placing shot after shot into Simon's chest, only to be thrown to the ground by Abe. Broken as he was now, Michael had to act. He snatched up his Tavor and jerked the trigger. Bullets sprayed in the attacker's general vicinity; some ricocheted throughout the cabin, one met its mark. As soon as it had, though, his visor cracked and went dead. Taylor had taken up John's pistol. Bullet after bullet impacted his body, and he fell to the ground as he watched Taylor take aim into the cockpit. It was a suicide mission.

Another shot was fired, then he hit the ground as Kevin swept his leg. Michael threw his broken mask to the side, finally able to see clearly again and grabbing his rifle. Taylor smacked Kevin's mask with the pistol, cracking it similarly to Michael's before placing it against the one weak spot in the Reapers' suits - the uncovered part; the back of the head. _No!_ Michael emptied the remaining bullets in his magazine the moment Taylor pulled the trigger. Kevin's body tensed up while Taylor unintentionally threw the pistol in response to the bullet blowing through his wrist. The ear-splitting sound echoed throughout the Chinook, making his ears ring and disorienting his senses.

"Fuck!" he yelled. Michael stumbled to his feet and rushed forward, ramming his full weight into the wounded trafficker. He pushed him towards the end of the helicopter in an effort to hurl him out the hatch.

"Go to hell," Michael yelled through gritted teeth.

"I'm taking you with me!" Michael head butted him, then delivered a sharp hook level with his head. Taylor ducked the blow and grabbed Michael by the waist, then in an impressive feat of strength, hurled him towards the opening in the rear of the aircraft. In his panic, the Reaper withdrew his pistol and was able to release a few haphazard shots that impacted Taylor's chest. He didn't stop though. Rather, he used what remaining strength he had to shove Michael out the hatch. He froze up; not due to fear of falling out of the aircraft, but because of what was before him.

Taylor had quickly picked up Kevin's rifle and had it aimed at his chest. No amount of self-healing would save him from that. "So much… for the Grim Reaper," he said in rasping breaths. Suddenly, his head snapped forward. A pistol had gone off, and an opening had been formed in his forehead. The trafficker fell to the ground, revealing John to be the one to have shot him.

"Th…thanks…"

"Don't mention it," John said as got back on his feet and made his way over to Kevin. He pressed his fingers against the fallen Reaper's neck, then nodded. "Out cold, but he's fine. Lucky bastard caught one right at the edge of his mask. Quarter of an inch over an he'd have been fucked." He picked his comrade up and set him on the seat while they surveyed the damage.

The pilot had been killed, with the copilot being the sole reason they had not driven the Chinook into the ground below. "You okay?" John asked.

"Yeah… I'm fine," he said. Aside from the death of his own comrade, something else was visibly bothering him. Michael joined the two of them in the cockpit, and it was obvious as to what it was. They were still over twenty miles away from the base, but among the mountains, the mushroom cloud could be seen all the same.

"Arceus… oh shit…" Michael felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. John, however, seemed to be deep in thought about something.

"Wait a second…" John said. "The living quarters are eight and nine floors below the entrance level."

"Y-yeah?"

"Dude, a _nuke_ wouldn't be able to blast through that much rock. There's gotta be people still in there!"

"Th… then they're gonna need our help," Kevin stammered.

"Welcome back," John said. "You're right. We need to get shit in order. There very well could be enemies there." With a new sense of determination, they all readied their gear again. Michael looked at his mask - the 9mm bullet had embedded itself in the visor. Setting it on the ground, he slammed the butt of his rifle into the visor, effectively breaking it out. He put the mask back on and went about reloading his weapons while Kevin tossed the bodies out the hatch. The tri-barreled Gatling gun was ready to go.

"I dunno what the hell we'll see up here," John said, "but we'd be best to stay near the machine guns."

"Good idea," Michael said. He made his way to the GAU-19, while Kevin and John each readied themselves to use the minigun and the M249, respectively. The sun was ascending behind them - a tactical advantage on their part. As they drew closer to HQ, the sounds of heavy gunfire and missiles grew more prominent, and smoke began to encompass their vision.

"Get ready!" the copilot said. "I'm gonna swing around so we can flank 'em! Use the weapons on the right!" The Chinook approached the ongoing battle from the east and made a wide hook downwards. Several aircraft could be seen through the haze, every one of them firing at the base. Michael said a silent prayer as they ascended over the mountaintops, his fingers resting on the trigger of the fifty caliber cannon. Explosions - one after another - sounded; the very earth seemed to quake.

The remaining soldiers stood in the what was left of the second and third floors, and they were taking fire from both ground forces and a group of Apaches that hovered in place, spewing forth a storm of lead. "Those aren't ours!" the copilot said. That was all the confirmation they needed. His maneuver had been successful; they had flanked the enemy aircraft and had a perfect line of fire with all three machine guns. "Hurry! Those birds are way more maneuverable than this thing!" Their own weapons hummed to life as they each aimed at the closest two. Whereas Michael cut the tail of the Apache off with the .50, Kevin sprayed countless bullets into the cockpit, blowing the two pilots' heads off. While it spiraled into the canyon beneath them, Michael barraged anything in the air that he could. Another explosion, and Apache that had received the most concentrated burst of fire fell towards the base. _Fuck!_ It crashed into the combatting forces below, and it was impossible to see who the following explosion had taken out.

Noticing the presence of the new arrivals, the remaining helicopters swiftly pulled up and out of the range of fire. "Shit, everyone hold on!" The copilot jerked the large helicopter to the side in an effort to keep them from taking heavy fire. Michael lost his grip on the GAU-19 and was flung into the side, rolling down the hatch until his left hand caught a lone piston responsible for raising the platform. None of his flights with Ver could have prepared him for the sight of the canyon hundreds of feet below given his current predicament. Sparks started to fly on the hatch - someone was firing at him.

"Turn this thing around!" Kevin yelled. The copilot took notice of the situation and nodded. He quickly rotated the plane, and it was everything Michael had not to let go. The other two, taking advantage of the slim opportunity, downed their attacker. The Chinook stabilized, if only for a moment. Quickly pulling himself back inside the aircraft, Michael got back into his own position.

"All they've got is their guns!" the copilot shouted. "As long as you guys can keep from getting hit through the windows, you'll be fine - this thing's armored like a motherfucking tank!" They evened out in the air, if at least for a short time. The insurgents had all but taken over the top of the mountain and the second floor, the first having been completely destroyed. That meant anyone they could put their sights on was fair game.

"Second floor!" Michael yelled. "Cut 'em off!" Most of the insurgents never saw it coming. Altogether they mowed down anyone standing there, dropping one body after another. Ground forces began to fire back at the Chinook to no real effect. That is, until John noticed a certain weapon aimed at them.

"SMAW! Get us the fuck away from here!" The anti-aircraft weapon fired while the copilot veered over the base in an effort to evade it. An effort for naught. The side of the aircraft opposite to John and Kevin disappeared completely, and the Chinook violently shook as it began to spiral out of control.

"H-hold on to something!" the copilot yelled in panic. They crashed into the side of the mountain; the propellers snapped off and were flung away from the rest of the tattered aircraft before it tumbled loudly to a forceful stop. Everyone on board was sprawled out on the ground, likely in the same state as Michael - not able to hear anything over the ringing of their ears. But they didn't have time to waste - forces would close in on them in a matter of seconds.

"W-we gotta get up," Kevin groaned. "Come on… Ah shit, where's my rifle?" He crawled over to the M249 - at least that hadn't been lost in the crash. The copilot was dazed; a stream of blood had trailed from a gash on his forehead down.

"Need to get inside," John said. "They… could be after our friends." _Or… the girls…_ Bullets started plinking the exposed inside of the Chinook, and they all took cover behind the remaining walls.

"Give me a hand!" Kevin said. He lifted the ammo belt from the M249, giving a clean shot at the post mounting it to the aircraft. Michael took out his dagger and struck the post as hard as he could, then again. After five or six shots, the machine gun had been freed from its confines. Kevin took the weapon in both hands and crouched by the large opening while Michael slid the ammo box beside him.

"There's no chance in hell we're getting through the front," John said. "Does anyone know any other way inside?" The copilot shockingly nodded.

"There's… an elevator up top. Right beside the landing pads - you've probably seen it before. It's used for unloading."

"Then I'm wasting time here," Michael said as he got ready to run out the hatch. "I've got to get down to the girls _now_!"

"Don't be a dumbass," John said. "You think you're any good to them dead? You're staying with us." Michael glared at him, but as much as he hated to admit it, John was right. Though every fiber of his being yearned to run to them, such an action could very well get him killed.

"Fine. But we need to get outta here. Any ideas?"

"I say we make a break for it," Kevin said as he quickly peeked outside. Shots were fired, bouncing off the side of the plane and making him duck back into cover. "Fuck, they're closing in. We can't stay here long."

"Kevin, you provide cover fire. We make a break for it the moment they back off." He looked at the copilot, who had regained his senses. "You come too."

"What? I haven't fought before…"

"Wanna stay here and test your luck with these guys?" he asked, motioning outside. He remained silent, but took out his M9.

"A-alright."

"Good. Now you guys ready?"

"Yeah," Kevin said, placing his hand on the trigger.

"Yeah."

"Now!" Moving as fast as he could, Kevin raised the weapon and held down the trigger. Brass cases were launched everywhere as the M249 launched bullet after bullet in the direction of the enemies. Everyone outside reacted immediately, some jumped behind the wreckage of turret-mounted Humvees. Others hit the ground. He aimed underneath the vehicles, placing shots at their feet.

"Bought us a minute. Now's the time to get the fuck out." John and the copilot ran towards the back hatch, followed by Michael. Kevin held the trigger for ten more seconds before dropping the weapon and running out with them. It wasn't worth bringing, not when he'd have to carry that exposed belt everywhere.

They had reached the wreckage that had previously been their landing zone before the enemies has realized what had happened. By then, they had all but escaped their line of sight. "Think we're good… for a moment," the copilot gasped. "This thing only goes to the first floor…"

"So then everyone'll try to kill us when we get off…" John said. Kevin cautiously looked around the corner.

"We're clear. Don't doubt they'll come after us."

"So we need to get a move on," John stated before hitting the button. The doors opened, much to their appreciation. At least one thing was working. They boarded it, waiting for the almost guaranteed confrontation they were about to face. Despite trying to remain in control of his emotions, Michael was terrified. Everything he loved was now at risk, and the thought of one of his girls dying…

He had to stop; forfeiting control could get him and his comrades killed. He needed to survive for all of them, lest his fears become true. He only prayed that it wasn't too late.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N:**

 **...**

 **Thanks again to Lunar Knight Archangel for proofreading everything before the submission. Really appreciate it man.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **Ch. 23 - Black and Red**

The doors opened, and not a single enemy greeted them. All four of them cautiously walked outside, ready to shoot at the slightest movement. The cracked flooring before them served as the only thing remaining of the first floor. There was smoke everywhere, with the stench of charred bodies in the mix, rising from the lower floors. Michael cautiously looked over the side. Bodies littered the floor, more of them being in uniform. "Shit - they're making their way down. We gotta get the fuck down there!"

"Main elevators are down too," Kevin said after taking notice of the smoldering wreckage towards the back. The very mountain shook slightly, and an ear-splitting roar permeated the air, far more prominent than the constant sound of gunfire. "What was that?!"

"I don't know, but it sure as hell can't be good," John stated. "We'll have to make a jump for it."

"How far?" the copilot asked.

"Looks to be about twelve feet," John said. "We'll be fine. Sure as hell wouldn't wanna stay here for long." Another tremor, followed by a loud crash. The remnants of the floor were beginning to crumble. "Look, either we jump or we fall!" Everyone neared the edge and jumped over. They impacted the ground harshly, but had managed to stick the landing. A gunshot went off behind Michael, and he jumped. Kevin had shot a guy that had been waiting in the corner with a rifle.

"Nice going." Kevin made his way to the fallen enemy's body and picked up the rifle.

"They're using M4's. Should be able to pick up their ammo."

"Good, we'll need it." He looked over at the elevator, then peered over the edge. The car was long gone, likely destroyed in the explosions above. But that wasn't what seemed to catch his attention. "There are ladders here on the sides. Looks like it leads all the way down."

"So we got a way to get to the bottom floors?" Michael asked. "Let's go then!"

"Calm the fuck down. We'd be doing our friends down there more of a service if we keep these guys off their ass. We're in the perfect position to do that - they ain't expecting us from behind." As they positioned themselves on the ladders, the whole base violently shook, and they had to grip the rungs to keep themselves from being flung off. The roar returned, this time being drawn out and followed by several crashes.

"This place won't be standing much longer if this shit keeps up!" Kevin yelled. "What kind of a pokémon _is_ that?"

"Hopefully one on our side," John said grimly. They hastily descended to past the third floor; all of the enemies had moved downward, but finally there was some level grounding below their feet. It would be a far better option for them to take the stairs instead. Michael climbed off onto the floor with his Tavor raised, before lowering it as he speedily made his way to the opposite corner. The others followed, and right when they were in the middle of the floor, a loud crackle went through their helmets.

"Comm lines are back up!" someone on the other end shouted. _Great, we got one good thing going for us._

"Hello? Who's there?" John asked. The mic was shifted, passed along to someone else.

"Does anyone copy?" the Commander asked.

"We're here, third floor. All three of us made it back. What the hell is going on down there?"

"Groudon's fighting on the seventh floor - we're trying to give him backup the best we can, but these guys are everywhere!"

"How low have they gone?!" Michael asked.

"They've just made their way to our floor!"

"Shit, they're all the way down to eleven?!" Kevin asked.

"What about the living quarters?!"

"Everyone that can fight in the living quarters is doing just that. Those that can't have been evacuated to lower floors." That gave some sense of relief to Michael, but it was short lived. Two of his girls could fight. In the background of the comm line, gunfire was becoming more prominent. They could hear a slide racking; Wesley had pulled out his 1911. "Help Groudon first - shit goes wrong and he can accidentally level this place!"

They ran down the stairs, aiming towards each and every corner in anticipation. Michael's heart felt as though it would pound out of his chest as his breaths came out in rapid succession. As they ran lower, a thundering sound echoed throughout the entire base as a powerful earthquake started. They all lost their footing, trying to grasp the railing to keep from falling the entire flight. Yelling could be heard below, and Kevin slipped his M4 over the edge and checked the situation out. He immediately started firing, and Michael recovered his footing and ran down before sharply turning the corner and joining suit. Both of them hit their targets and head level, penetrating the metal helmets they wore.

"One more floor," John yelled over the commotion.

"Take the heat off of him!" Wesley ordered. "This place'll come down if we get another one like that!" As much as they all wanted to get to their friends and loved ones, everyone would perish if the base collapsed upon itself. Michael kept firing as more people tried to make their way up the stairs, replaced by John as he took cover to quickly reload. His hands were shaking, making it difficult to fit the magazine into the weapon. Everything he loved was an inch away from complete destruction. The others ran ahead of him to the doorway of the seventh floor, where an all-out battle was raging. He caught up to them after chambering a round and saw the chaotic scene.

Groudon was taking heavy fire from nearly all directions, and it was impossible to know just how many bullets were embedding themselves within the legendary as he blasted the enemies with searing shots of flame. Several walls had been completely leveled as a result of the fight, with pointed rocks jutting out from everywhere, and gunfire being exchanged from both sides. "Let's get these motherfuckers," Kevin said.

"Stick near Groudon and help him out!" the Commander stated. Gunshots were heard on Wesley's end of the mic as enemies infiltrated the room they were in. Michael and the others took note of the enemies taking cover within the remains of a drill room, peeking over the toppled wall to deliver fire to Groudon when he wasn't looking. Bullets impacted the back of his head, only seeming to fuel the massive pokémon's rage even more. He spun around and closed the distance between them much faster than anyone had expected. They tried to retreat, but he caught them with a scorching flamethrower, reducing them to nothingness in but a second. One guy screamed aloud as he clutched what was left of his arm, only to be silenced with an echoing stomp. As soon as he had taken care of those, though, he roared out in pain as projectiles struck him once again.

"Come on, let's get to work," John said. The four of them ran through the pile of debris in the middle of the room, with Kevin stopping momentarily to pick up a fallen M32 MGL among the bodies of the enemy.

"There's a hell of a lot of fire coming from over there!" he yelled, pointing towards the back corner of the building. "You guys distract them for a minute!" With that, he sprinted away from them, cutting through the last few standing structures on the floor. Meanwhile, John and Michael crawled over the pile of debris in order to get a better look at the threat. At least a dozen or so enemies were backed into the corner, having set up a trio of M2 machine guns facing each direction. The .50 caliber rounds had forced even the legendary to retreat to the other side of the room. It took only a second for them to be spotted, and neither had time to raise their rifles before they started taking fire. They quickly ducked and climbed down as the powerful rounds cut through the pile.

"S-shit," he copilot said as he clutched his pistol. "Oh shit… I-I'm not… trained for th-this…" With trembling hands, he tried to keep focused, but his fear was evident for anyone to see. John firmly placed his hand on the copilot's shoulder.  
"What's your name?"

"C-Calvin…"

"Calvin? You'll be fine, you hear me? Just fine. Anyone comes, you just point it and shoot, alright? They're scared too - they don't want you to know that, but they are. So you just give those fuckers something to be scared of."

"I'll…t-try," he stammered.

"That's all you can do." John made his way to the corner of the wall, clutching his Tavor in preparation of using it. He studied the situation and noted the structure that Kevin had run through. "Michael, I'm gonna make a run for it over there. Once I draw in their fire, you start hitting 'em."

"Alright." John made sure to keep out of sight as he crept through the wreckage, slowly making his way towards what remained of the doorway. Michael looked around the edge, seeing John quickly raise his weapon and fire around the corner.

"Get down!" one of the enemies yelled. Most of them ducked behind their cover, but a few weren't so lucky. Their heads snapped back as a result of the unexpected fire, and they fell without another movement. John quickly retraced his steps as a lethal barrage followed him shortly after. Michael saw this as his chance to retaliate against the oblivious foes. He swung his rifle around the debris and quickly aimed at the two guys currently firing the machine guns. One of the two saw him, but wasn't quick enough in turning the .50 caliber weapon to face the Reaper. Michael pulled the trigger, and he dropped what he was doing and clutched his neck as a continuous red stream sprayed out. The others took cover once again, and Michael waited for once of them to raise their heads. He and John had them pinned down, and any sudden movement could be fatal.

One enemy decided to test his luck and jerked the M2, haphazardly pointing it towards Michael's general vicinity. Before he managed to actually aim, though, a quick explosion - and half of him was gone. Several more followed in quick succession, sending their bodies flying in each direction. "Nice work Kev," John said.

"Finish them off up there," Wesley yelled in between shots. "Then get your asses down h—." One shot in particular rang out.

"Commander?" Frantic yelling could be picked up on the other side, and over the firefight, someone came close.

"Fuck! Hawkins is down! I repeat, Hawkins is down!" he yelled to everyone in the room. _No… it can't be…_ "Holy fuck! Someone get a medic in here right fucking now!" A shuffling sound could be heard as he took the earpiece out of the Commander's ear. "Does anyone copy?"

"Yeah, couple of Reapers here," John answered. "What's the situation like down there?"

"Twelve is mostly secured, but we're getting hammered here. We need all the help we can get!"

"What's the situation with the Commander?"

"He's been shot in the head! Fuckin' pouring blood all over the place. I don't know… I don't know."

"Alright, we'll be on our way!" Kevin yelled. "I think we've spent enough time up here! Groudon should be fine now!" The twelve foot tall legendary disposed of several enemies at once, each trying in vain to spray him down with their rifles, with a vicious sweep of his arm. Immediately shifting his attention towards an incoming group, he slammed his hand into the wall, causing the mountain to shake. Everyone lost their balance as another quick earthquake ensued, cracking the concrete walls of the facility as jagged spears of rock shot out, impaling every insurgent he had intended.

"Looks like it. Let's go help Hawk."

While they ran towards the staircase on the opposite side of the room, Michael had to continuously remind himself that the girls were safe for the time being. _They've been evacuated… they're okay._ That was, as long as they could keep the enemies above the thirteenth floor. At that point… no, he didn't even want to think about it. They all flew down the stairway as the next fight got closer and closer.

Before Michael knew what happened, he met a violent stop as something slammed into the front of his helmet. He landed on his back, attempting to get up before his aggressor could finish him off to no avail. "Thomas what the fuck?!" Kevin yelled.

"Sorry… I didn't know," he apologized. In the haze, Michael could make out the unmistakable shape of the large Reaper, unarmored and clutching a shotgun like a club. He extended his hand, which Michael readily accepted, although weakly. "If anything… be glad that I ran out…"

"Here," John said, handing him his rifle and the belt of magazines. "We need to get to eleven. They hit the Commander."

"Shit… Oh fuck… Is he okay?"

"We don't know. Haven't heard anything else. But I ain't waiting to find out."

"Alex!" Thomas yelled.

"What?" came a distant response from across the hall.

"Get over here!" Pretty soon, he joined them, carrying an MP5 that he'd managed to snag from an enemy. "Time to go."

The eleventh floor had been far more dangerous than the seventh, and they had to fight just to get out the staircase. The Commander's office wasn't too far away, but with the battle raging on, it would be very difficult to get there. Michael loaded his second-to-last mag into his rifle as they remained out of the enemies' line of sight, bullets impacting the stairs beside them. Thomas reached over them around the doorway and fired randomly, causing whoever was pinning them down to swear and take cover themselves. As they exchanged fire, something came to Michael's mind.

"Thomas, where the hell is Samuel?!" The heavy gunner tossed a used magazine to the side.

"I don't know!"

"What do you mean you don't know?! He was on our floor wasn't he?!"

"He helped evacuate everyone - haven't seen him since!" John swiftly capped an insurgent that had attempted to come from the side, toppling him right outside the doorway.

"Anyone got any ideas?!" Kevin asked.

"I say we go back up a floor and try the other side!" John said over the gunfire.

"Don't have much of a choice," Thomas said.

"Shit!" one of the enemies outside yelled, "over there!" They started yelling as they began to take fire from another direction, and that gave them a quick opportunity. Michael swiftly peaked around and fired at their exposed backs, felling several men as they were pelted from the front as well with what sounded like a pistol. Samuel was gripping his .380 while holding his stomach. A red stain had grown prominent in his midsection.

"Fuck man, are you okay?!" Kevin asked.

"I… I don't—." He fell to his knees, his hand becoming soaked from the wound. His breath was leaving him in short, rapid bursts. With the coast being clear for the moment, Thomas dropped his rifle and hoisted his comrade over his shoulder.

"I'm getting him to a medic! You guys get to the Commander!" He looked at the copilot for a second. "Who's this?"

"Calvin," John replied. "He's with us."

"Come with me. I'm gonna need someone to keep me covered." Calvin nodded and made his way to the Reaper's side.

With the temporary moment of safety they had, they split up, with Thomas and Calvin going downstairs and the others gaining ground towards Wesley's office. Several men in uniform were crouched behind the crumbling walls of his office, protecting the Commander and retaliating against the enemies. They'd only have so long before the concentrated machine gun fire turned the rest of the wall into dust.

"They don't have much longer in there!" Kevin shouted over the constant bursts of bullets. "Michael, you flank 'em from behind! We'll take them when they're distracted!" Michael handed his rifle to John, who would have much more use for it given the circumstances. Grasping his pistol with both hands, Michael kept close to the flaming remnants of offices as he hurriedly made his way towards the aggressors. As he neared the corner to the main hallway, he heard footsteps approaching. He readied himself. They were clad in all black rather than digital camouflage; not theirs.

Michael kicked the first enemy in the shin before he knew what was happening, causing the guy to swear as he fell straight towards the ground. Without turning to face the fallen foe he shoved the 9mm under the helmet of the second enemy and pulled the trigger. He swung around the corner to find no one else there before turning around and capping the first guy. "Hurry the fuck up!" Kevin said. "They're gonna get shredded in there!"

He continued as fast as he could, still being sure to be cautious around the next corner - the main walkway in the middle of this floor. Across from him there was a wounded soldier keeping watch over his comrades' backs as he rested against the wall. While the other three were exchanging shots with the enemy, he raised his rifle and began to fire at an unseen threat from within a nearby debriefing room. A live grenade was tossed out and rolled near the four of them. Without hesitation, he jumped onto it to shield his oblivious friends.

Michael pushed the horrifying image aside; he had a job to do. He could hear the steady roar of the machine gun from around the corner, and, knowing that they weren't focused on him, he quickly aimed around and started firing at their heads. The gunner was the first to be targeted, and he fell forward without knowing what had hit him as the other enemies frantically reacted. Two more and he had to duck behind cover to avoid the deadly stream of bullets intended for him.

"Alright, killed the gunner and pissed them the fuck off. Now what?"

"We've got 'em." Both he and Kevin rushed from the other side and mowed the last few down. Michael holstered his pistol, having his eyes set on another weapon - the M60 they had just been using. He picked the LMG up and grabbed two drums - all he could carry.

"Let's get them outta here while we got the time," Alex said, motioning to the Commander's office. They dreadfully anticipated what they would see as they drew close to the doorway. Army personnel lowered their weapons as the special forces members walked in; as they took a good look at Commander Hawkins' body.

A medic had used what he could to bandage a hole in Wesley's head the best he could. A hole right where his right eye had been. The ground was soaked crimson, and the very life was absent from their leader.

"No!" John shouted as he tossed the Tavor aside and rushed to the Commander. "Those fucking cocksuckers!" Alex clutched his mouth as he visibly fought the urge to hurl, whether or not from sorrow or sickness Michael wasn't sure. All he could do is stare in disbelief as the medic shook his head.

"He's… it's not looking good."

"You son of a bitch!" Kevin yelled, pacing towards the doctor with violent intent. "How could you let him die?!" Michael grabbed him by the shoulders, halting him in his tracks. "You fucking let him die!"

"I've done th-the best that I can," he stammered. "He's still here - barely. I can't do anything more for him. We need to get him to TMA specialist. That's the only way he'll have a chance…"

Michael handed Alex his weapon as he knelt down and lifted Wesley over his shoulder, closing his eyes to keep from looking at the gaping hole in the Commander's head.

"We don't have a second to waste," John said. "We're going to thirteen. They should have more medical personnel there. You guys coming?" The apparent leader of the soldiers shook his head.

"No, we're not going anywhere. You guys get him to safety. We're going to send each and every one of these bastards to hell."

"Take this then," Alex said, setting the LMG onto the table with a loud _thump_.

"That should do nicely." He picked the weapon up and nodded to his men. "Alright everyone, we're moving out."

The two groups went their separate ways, with the medic tagging along with the four Reapers. Kevin and John kept in front of the others, scanning over everything in their sight to provide safe passage for Michael and the medic, while Alex covered their backs. In the midst of the battlefield they rushed back to the stairs; the number of living enemies was decreasing all the while. A more heavily armored unit descended just as they entered, each sporting black AK-47s and heavy ceramic armor. They said nothing as they hurried by, and it wasn't but a few seconds until they were engaged in their own firefight.

Going down, they passed by dozens of armed guards, ready to shoot at anyone not in a uniform. They were given passage to the thirteenth floor, where the nearest soldier knocked on the door. It was opened, revealing even more armored personnel behind sandbags, each aiming their weapons towards the entrance. _Good luck getting into here._

"Where are the medics?" John asked.

"Throughout the twenties," one responded.

"Oh shit…" another said upon noticing who Michael was carrying. "Get him there quick!" By now, Michael's suit had a thick stream from his back down. It would be a miracle if he wasn't dead.

They quickly navigated the floor, finding the series of rooms they were looking for. Cots were lined up in each of them. Nearly all of them were occupied. Medics rushed around from patient to patient, stitching people up and giving out shots of morphine. The fourth room is where they found the one person of interest - Grace. The gardevoir had just finished healing an individual who had been shot in the arm, severing an artery.

"Grace!" Michael said. "We need some help here!" She turned around in annoyance for interrupting her work, but went wide-eyed once she saw the situation.

"Set him down right there!" she said, pointing to one of the few unoccupied cots. She pressed her hand to Wesley's face, healing him the best she could at the moment. Though it didn't do much, the bleeding slowed to a gradual trickle. Her eyes lit up; an IV with a blood bag floated towards them, and she immediately stuck the needle into his arm. "His pulse is still here, but it's weak. I can't do much more without Sebastian."

"Thank you Grace," John said. "Alright, we're heading back up. Let's give 'em hell."

As much as they needed to finish off the remaining enemies, Michael couldn't bring himself to follow them. Not without finding out first. He looked through room after room - non-combatants everywhere. Just as they approached the nearest stairway, he saw the wounded Reaper laying against the wall. He was shirtless, bandaged up across the midsection, clasping his ninetales throughout it all.

"Samuel!" The others stopped in their tracks and rushed to the door. Nicole looked over at them and forced a smile.

"Michael!" a familiar voice said. Charlotte and Elise both rushed up to him and embraced him, with Layla following close behind.

"Girls… are you okay?"

"Yeah," Elise sniffled. "There were all these loud sounds… all those guys started coming in and… they started shooting at everyone…" He looked over the three of them, and suddenly, he was struck with fear.

"Oh Arceus… where are Ver and Alaina?!" Layla looked down and shook her head.

"They… they stayed upstairs t-to fight…"

"What?!"

"Th-they told us to leave with the others," Layla replied.

"What floor?!"

"Nine… last time we saw them…" Without another word, he sprinted out of the room towards the stairs, snatching up an M4 laying against the barricade. His adrenaline overrode his exhaustion; his unstoppable urge to get to those two before something could happen. He could already be too late. _Shut up!_ he told himself through teary eyes. The others were trailing behind him, backing him in his moment of terror. As they passed the eleventh floor, the former racket had dissipated into a few final gunshots here and there. The mountain had stopped quaking; all fell still. The only sound registering to his ears were those of the hasty footsteps as they made their way to the ninth floor.

Michael rammed the door open as he quickly scanned the living quarters. The rooms, much like those throughout the rest of the base, had been leveled. Small flames here and there and the sight of corpses from both sides. Most of the enemies had been sliced open.

The others had caught up and looked at the devastation of what had previously been their living quarters. Spent shells of 40mm grenades littered the floor, the clear culprits of much of the destruction. Some of the bodies were those of soldiers they had briefly seen throughout their time on base, others of pokémon that similarly resided there.

Every second Michael dreaded; each and every one could bring him closer to the very thing that could tear his heart in two. They drew near the Reaper quarters, and from around the corner, Michael could hear sobbing - that of his flygon. He slowly walked around and was presented with the image.

Ver was slouched against the wall, hugging Alaina for dear life. The latias gazed back at him with a sad, almost empty look as she tried to comfort Ver. The flygon was covered in blood and surrounded by fallen enemies. Michael ran to her side and knelt down, unable to restrain the tears any longer. "Ver…" he whimpered.

"I… I killed them," she said. "It was so easy… and yet…" Her words trailed off into incoherency as he held the two of them close to him, relieved upon knowing that the blood did not belong to her. She was struggling to come to terms with what she had done, and they would be there to help her through this. But despite the situation, Michael couldn't deny the fact that the greatest sense of joy had washed over him. They were safe - all of them.

"It'll all be okay," Alaina whispered. "We're all here for you." She nodded appreciatively as she slowly got to her feet. Michael slipped his arm around her for support as they all stepped over the bodies of the enemy.

The fighting had stopped across the base; the final insurgents had been eliminated. This was anything but a victory though. The Commander would hopefully pull through, but his unease about the situation was only magnified by the uncertainty. The base had been utterly destroyed in what would be known as the most significant attack on Johtonian soil within the last century. It would take years to rebuild it all, and time was not a luxury they had. Not when Douglas possessed weapons like that. The aircraft, the bombs… all of it served to raise dozens of questions. They had underestimated their enemies capabilities, their numbers - everything about them. And now they had paid for it.

A sickening, coughing sound could be heard from within a room as they came closer to the stairs. One insurgent among several was spewing blood from his mouth as he held his hand over his torn abdomen. The wound had originated from claws and had cut deep enough to tear through most of his viscera. He didn't have long. Nevertheless, he reached for a fallen pistol on the ground. Michael closed the distance between the two of them and stepped on his hand. He looked up at the Reaper and the rifle pointed at him.

"Go on… do me the favor," he sputtered. Michael placed his finger on the trigger. "My only regret… is that we didn't finish the job. Not y-yet." With what little bit of life he had in him, he managed to painfully laugh. "You stupid f-fucks are fighting… the wrong people." Michael silenced him as Ver closed her eyes; dead with the rest of his comrades.

He glanced over the bodies - all sliced open, staining the carpet a deep red. The body of a lone enemy had a set of dog tags around his neck; something that served to unnerve him. _Military… they all were…_ By his right side was a Mossberg 590 - scraped along the barrel, trace amounts of blood shooting up from the opening. By the looks of it, he'd stuck it against someone and delivered a point-blank shot. Alaina gasped and gripped his hand, before breaking out into sobs.

"Arceus," she moaned, crying into his shoulder. "Oh Arceus…" He turned to console her, inadvertently facing the gut-wrenching sight. He pictured the scenario in his mind as he cried; no way to fight off all those enemies, yet trying all the same - cornered, but still trying to put up a fight till the very end. All the memories yet to be made - all ended by a 12 gauge. He was sprawled out on the floor, his chest remaining still. The two dragons looked away, praying that somehow this was all nothing more than a nightmare, all while Michael was unable to peel his gaze away from the body of his friend. The body of a zoroark.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Sorry I had to do that. I look forward to hearing what all of you have to say about this. However, I do ask that anyone that posts a review please abstain from posting spoilers. Please let the other readers find this out for themselves.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Sorry again for the wait! Finals are going to be putting some pressure on me for a little bit, but I wanted to get out another chapter soon since I haven't updated in over a month. Hope you all enjoy, and if you do, please consider giving me some feedback!**

 **Recently, some fellow writers (Umi/FriskyFlareon, DarkFoxProjectX, Aurumn48, and WolvenRepublic) and I have opened up a new Discord server. We talk about story ideas and the like, as well as just generally have a good time. If you would like to join, shoot me a PM, as I cannot post link info on FFN for some reason.**

 **Also, if you enjoyed reading this, please consider giving _Into Darkness_ a shot. It's a mystery dungeon fic that I've started, and there aren't too many of those in this fandom.**

 **Special thanks to Lunar Knight Archangel as always!**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **It is worse to lose a friend to evil before one loses him to death.**

 **-Mary Renault**

* * *

 **Ch. 24 - From the Ashes**

"It's been over a day since what is now being labeled as the largest terrorist attack in Johto's history, and already thousands have been reported dead from the bombings and raids. Authorities have not revealed the person responsible for these attacks, but many are speculating that it may have something to do with the same Kantonian radicals that took over Fuchsia and have been at conflict with the military for a few years now."

"No doubt that these are among the darkest days in Johto. All we can do is pray for those affected by this tragedy and wait to hear from the president and the Secretary of Defense tonight. As things stand currently, we are unsure as to what will happen next. All we can do now is be there for those affected by this terrible incident."

The two news anchors were replaced by video clips of memorial ceremonies across the country - vets, families of the deceased, and pokémon of all origins deep in prayer over the victims. As several commentators went on about details of the attack, the Reapers nearby tuned it all out. Not like they'd be learning anything; they knew exactly what had gone down.

Most of them were helping where they could; Thomas was cleaning out the hallway of heavy debris while Alex and John helped the doctors transport patients and the like. Throughout the whole ordeal, TMA specialists like Grace and Sebastian were barely seen resting as they assisted the hundreds of critically wounded. The medical area was swarming with activity, with many of the injured resting on cots out in the hallway.

Michael tried to keep himself as busy as possible in order to keep his mind numb. Despite this, though, anyone could tell that this was futile with how red his eyes stayed. There were no more tears left to cry. As he and his two dragons helped transport the wounded, newly deployed troops rushed in each direction to assist. It was all but a blur, the noise being drowned out by his own silent thoughts. Thoughts of the friend he had lost.

He didn't know how to cope with it. When he had killed Ethan, things had initially seemed rough - he no longer had a biological family to turn to. But that was his own choice, and one that he had no problem making, all things considered. But in this case… his friend that had always been there for him; from the first moment he stepped on base until the very last days, Zeke had been the greatest friend a man could ask for. And Douglas had taken him.

They didn't just go for Johto's instruments of war; nor had they settled for attacking the soldiers. They had targeted both militant and civilian alike, murdering everyone not garbed in solid black. He had promised the girls that he wouldn't resort to vengeful rage in killing his enemies, but now… now he wasn't so sure that he could follow through with that.

Not a single one of those services could truly represent to the nation what had gone on in those bases. You had to be there to truly understand the destruction - to witness the sight of blood staining the floor, or the heaps of dead bodies laid side-by-side for confirmation. Thousands here alone had lost their lives to the attack - hardly a victory for Johto. They were, to the people, a large number to remember in infamy. Not the individuals it was comprised of, but one large statistic.

It had been around afternoon when Thomas approached him. He and the girls were seated among the wreckage of what had once been their quarters. No one was sure what to say - as if anything could have been said at all. Thomas stepped through the unhinged door and slowly approached them.

"Hey," Alaina softly said. "Company."

"Hey…" Thomas said. Michael looked up at him wordlessly. "I know this doesn't seem like a good time… I can't even begin to understand what you're going through right now... but we have to meet on the thirteenth."

"When?" he asked.

"Well… they're waiting on us to get back."

"Go on," Layla said, "we'll be right here when you return."

He followed his comrade down to the lower floor, still bustling with medical activity. The others were waiting in front of the door, but they weren't alone. Both Giovanni and Nate stood before a slightly opened door. _What is the CIC doing here?_ Michael thought.

"They're all here," Nate said.

"Tell 'em to come in," Wesley said. The voice came as a relief to the Reapers. One less thing to be worried about. They all walked inside, seeing the Commander sitting up on a hospital bed now. The side of his face had been bandaged, with a large, white pad over where his right eye had been. Grace had finally taken a seat after days of continuous work, visibly exhausted from the sleep deprivation.

"Shit…" Kevin said.

"I know. Feels like hell too." Grace looked down and shook her head.

"I'm… sorry I couldn't save it," the gardevoir said. "There just wasn't anything left. I have to have something to work with…"

"Don't beat yourself over it doll. If it hadn't have been for you, I wouldn't be here now. Now you go get yourself some sleep. No offense, but you look worse than I do." She nodded - there was no disagreeing with that.

"Call Sebastian if anything goes wrong, okay?"

"Will do." She slowly walked out of the room, leaving the soldiers to themselves. Nate put his hand on Wesley's shoulder.

"Just had to go and get yourself shot…"

"You know it," he chuckled.

"Sorry about the eye though…" Wesley didn't respond immediately, but looked up with a slight grin.

"Ah well. The good lord gave me two of 'em for a reason. And it ain't gonna get in the way of work."

"Maybe not. But our damn base getting torn up might just interfere…" John said. And obviously, he had a point.

"That's what I'm here for," Giovanni spoke up. "Johto has always been there for us. When the money from donors wasn't coming in - when our men didn't have the equipment they needed for the job at hand - Johto immediately gave us what we needed. Now it's our turn to help you all for once. We've got rooms for all of you if you're up for it. My guess is that the base near Route 22 might be in danger of being attacked, so I'd like to keep you all out of that area for the time being. Wouldn't want you all to get caught up in something like this again."

"Considering the circumstances… we might just have to take you up on that offer."

"Glad to hear it. Since we're also in a national state of emergency, there'll be patrolling aircraft for miles around."

"Wouldn't want a repeat of all this," Nate murmured.

"If you don't mind me asking," John said, "what in the hell kind of an organization is this? At first it was just trafficking and smuggling… then kidnapping legendaries, city takeovers… Something was definitely off when we looked over all that budget data. Now come and find out they have fucking aircraft." Giovanni stood up and walked to the door, then looked outside, checking to see if anyone was nearby. After that he shut and locked the door, much to their nervousness.

"You're right. It just started adding up these past few days. We knew they had money - and a lot of it. But now we see where it was all vested. And we should've known. What kind of an organization can run up a fuel bill in the tens, even hundreds of millions? But it's the only explanation now… the one I feared most." The room fell silent; all dreaded the unspoken words. Finally Thomas had the courage to ask.

"…What are we dealing with?" he asked quietly.

"…The resources we know that he possesses - billions of dollars… encryptors, hidden bases here and there, aircraft and missiles - there's no other explanation. He's been buying out Kanto's military."

"I… hope you're wrong about that," Wesley said. "Kanto wouldn't sell that kind of stuff…"

"He's purchased power in the media, protection from politicians, and has more money than Arceus himself. What would stop him from buying equipment from a failing army? We - a private group - are more suitable for war. And yet they still have trillions of dollars worth of assets lying around. I don't doubt for one second that Stone could buy weapons and vehicles for pennies on the dollar. It isn't getting _used_ \- so why wouldn't the politicians jump to sell it? Hell, they did all those years back when Rocket was at it."

"…How much are we talking about?" Wesley questioned.

"Well, with him racking up such a fuel bill… It'd be hard to estimate, but my guess is that he's at least got enough to fill up a base this size…"

"Shit." If that was true, then Douglas could cause a great deal of destruction before being stopped. He wouldn't stand a chance against Johto's full military, but the fact that he possessed such assets was anything but good.

"And the worst part about it?" Giovanni continued. "There's nothing we can say about it. Once Kanto's citizens hear that their government is selling military equipment to a terrorist…"

"Society will go to hell..." Nate stated. "Fuck, he's put us in a great predicament."

"So then what do we do? Just wait for him to pull another punch like that?" Kevin asked.

"If Giovanni's right about this… then the only thing we can do is try and take him out quietly," Wesley said.

"That's right. As crooked as Kanto may be, we have to work towards preserving our country for the greater good. The people can't know about it - not for awhile. We'll make sure to clean out the crooks for what they've done, but we need to take the hit and roll for now," Giovanni stated. Surely they all despised that very fact, but there was nothing they could do. Living under discreet corruption was far better than life under the anarchy that would surely develop.

"Now what?" Samuel inquired.

"We double down on our efforts to find him. Once we do… there won't be any prisoners taken." Finally, something they all wanted to hear. "If you all are alright with it, I would prefer that we leave in two days' time." That date hadn't been randomly selected, either.

"CIC and Reaper operations are going to be working hand-in-hand for awhile," Nate added. "As long as Douglas is still alive, this is both of our fight."

"Correct. And we do have a few things working in our favor."

"You sure about that?" Kevin asked. "I mean, if you look around and all…"

"Going off of the fact that he has aircraft, we've been able to narrow down his location significantly. There are only so many places you can store it, and even fewer that aren't governmentally owned."

"So then he's really set a time limit on his operations," Wesley said.

"Yep. My guess is a few months tops. But that presents another issue altogether," Giovanni stated. "Given his circumstances, I believe that Douglas may try to strike again." _No…_

"How?" Thomas asked. "This country's locked up tight, and I doubt that he'd be able to try something like he did the other day."

"Maybe not against Johto. But we're sitting ducks. I'm worried that he might launch an attack within Kanto's boundaries," Giovanni answered. "With the capabilities he has, Doug could pose a threat to dozens of military bases across the region. We can't let him launch another attack like this - especially one that might help him build his armory even more."

"So what's the plan?" Nate asked.

"Simple. We locate him and send in as many Reapers as we can," Wesley said. "We're going to kill that son of a bitch for all that he's done. No governmental bullshit; this is personal now."

. . . . .

The wind stung their cheeks as they stood amongst the tens of thousands of slender, white tombstones, each consisting of an elevated symbol of Arceus. The final resting place of soldiers spanning from wars fought decades ago. And now it had more activity than any other individual day in history.

Thirty minutes. That had been the time allotted. Thousands to bury, with many of the ceremonies going on at the same time. Off into the distance, groups of families and loved ones flocked around the endless series of white graves. But for this particular grave, that wasn't the case.

The zoroark had no friends, no family outside of the military. Nineteen were present - nineteen that weren't required to be there; that really knew the person getting ready to go into the ground. Quietly six of the eight present ceremonial soldiers lowered the casket in front of the grave, then proceeded to take the red flag that had adorned it into their hands. Their moves were swift and silent, and the large emblem of their country was folded into a small triangle, which had wound up in the hands of the soldier on the end. He walked over to Michael and extended it. _The only… fucking family he had…_ The Reaper accepted it silently.

The sound of the bugle fell upon deaf ears, then the readying of the weapons. All Michael could think about was the infuriating, yet inescapable, result of all of this. Nobody would ever know of who was getting buried here. This would be the extent of the services held in his honor - a private's funeral. Not one reporter would utter his name; not one person absent today would even know of him. And to the nation… he would just be one out of the thousands. _Just… a fucking statistic…_ He clenched his fist as Alaina held his arm in a futile effort to comfort him. As if anything could.

Actually… maybe _one_ thing. Douglas's head would suffice, he supposed. Steven's request be damned; if they found him… the only way he would be transported away would be in a trash bag.

The time came. The soldiers stepped aside, and, one by one, each of the mourners approached the casket. When their turn came, every person silently placed their hand on the metal case. Elise's sniffles were the only sound aside from the gentle breeze. Nobody made any effort to hide tears.

Eventually Michael's turn came. He mustered the strength to walk forward, stopping before the closed casket that held his friend. His hand rested upon the cold surface as he quietly said his farewell. But as he remained still, his feelings of grief were being replaced by those of rage. Stolen before his time. _Murdered… they fucking murdered him and all the others!_ Thoughts of what he wanted to do - what levels he would be willing to sink to - for a shot at Douglas. How he could make it last for hours, days even - how he could make that piece of shit beg for death.

While he walked away, the words of Secretary Connor at the press debriefing echoed in his mind."I recognize that in extreme circumstances such as these, the nation would like reassurance - some form of certainty. Well, here it is. The heads of each branch of the military and I have been talking this over for hours on end. The nature of this attack calls for retaliation of the utmost level; we have come to the conclusion that it is in the best interests of not only our country - but to the other regions and even the rest of the world - that we step forth and remove this despicable group from the planet.

We are not going to war. That terms suggests that both sides stand a chance. No - we are going to avenge. We are going to eliminate every single one of them - not one damn prisoner is to be taken. Justice will be swift, and believe me, it will be without hesitation. They have sealed their fate. No force in heaven or hell can stop what is about to come."

They all watched as the soldiers concluded the event. service. Lined up horizontally, they each took the ceremonial rifles from behind their backs. The command was given by the one on the end - the only one without one.

"Ready… Aim…" They pointed diagonally into the air. "Fire!" The gunshots sounded, and out of the corner of his eye, Michael noticed Elise jumped, despite knowing what to expect beforehand. "Ready…" They quickly racked the slides of their M1s. "Aim… Fire!" One more time. "Ready… Aim… Fire!" And just as the noise of thunder had dissipated, he was gone from them.

. . . . .

They did their best to pack up what was left of their stuff. The rooms were all practically leveled, with only larger furniture such as the beds and couches remaining in most of the living quarters. Almost no walls remained. Michael approached the demolished nightstand, stepping onto the crushed sheetrock strewn about the carpet. Fragments splintered off in every direction from the toppled piece, but it still remained fairly intact. With some force he was able to open the top drawer.

His revolver was there, without even a scratch, alongside the string of six luxury balls. Only one of them no longer had an inhabitant. Michael took it into his hand and lightly pressed the central button. The spherical device expanded, ready for use once more. He sat on the edge of the bed as he gripped it tightly.

He heard someone approaching - the sound of soft, familiar footsteps. Elise walked to the edge of the bed, looking up at him sadly. Michael said not a word; there was nothing to be said. She hopped up beside him and into his side. He held her like his life depended on it, hugging her closely as they simply sat there. Perhaps the sweet glaceon before him was the only thing keeping him grounded. _Th… thank you…_ Softly, he pressed his lips to her cheek, remaining there for what felt like an eternity. She gently nuzzled him back, before ceasing her actions and looking back toward the doorway.

Charlotte was standing there. "…Everything's… ready to go," she said quietly. "They've started heading out…"

They all left the ruins of the base, uncertain as to where the future would lead them. There simply was no telling at this point. But one thing was for sure - it would have been far better for Douglas had they all died in the raid. No doubt that every militant there would stop at nothing to put an end to Stone. They left the very way they had arrived to the scene - out the back entrance into the airport. Among the destroyed vehicles were only a few functioning ones. Those coming to deliver aid, some dropping off troops… and the one ready to take them away from it all. Giovanni stood near an Osprey that had recently finished unloading its cargo. It would only be a matter of minutes before it had finished refueling.

"Everyone ready?" he asked.

"Looks like it," Wesley said.

"Alright then. Let's go." As they were making their way onto the aircraft, an officer approached the Commander and handed him something - an ultra ball. He quietly said a few things before walking off, leaving the Commander looking down at the device. _What the hell is that?_ It certainly wasn't Wesley's one pokémon, whatever that was - his pokéball was on his side. He followed the others into the open hatch of the Osprey, which was soon after shut behind him. He took a seat on the end and pressed his head into his hand.

Michael laid his head back in an attempt to get some well-needed rest. He didn't even want to look at the base as they passed over it - just shut his eyes. "We have to do this just right," Giovanni said. "We can't let Kanto fall, and we sure as hell can't let war break out between our countries. I… wouldn't want to be forced to choose between our greatest allies and our homeland…"

"You won't have to," Wesley said. "This morning, the order has been given for every single Reaper division to shift their focus towards killing Douglas. He's not going to claim one more life."

"Did any of you check the news?" John asked as he looked a his phone.

"Don't need to," Thomas murmured.

"Oh yes you do." He turned his phone to the larger Reaper, who shook his head.

"Well damn…"

"What is it?" asked Ivy.

"Steven Stone has just resigned as the champion of Hoenn…" _What?_

"Shouldn't come as surprising," Wesley muttered. "He knows what's gonna happen, and looking at all this… yeah, I can see why he'd lose the drive to battle."

"Where is he now?" Alex asked.

"He got relocated to a Sinnoh branch. Much safer there and can still keep an eye on him. He probably phoned in his resignation this morning."

"Good fucking riddance. Sick of that family," Kevin said. At this point, most of them probably agreed with that statement.

By the time they had neared the CIC base near the Indigo League, most of them had dozed off. Sleep was a great way to mind-numbingly pass the time and keep one's thoughts off of the recent events. But it would seem that it wasn't going to come to Michael. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked around the aircraft. The only other conscious Reaper was Thomas who was absentmindedly stroking Ivy's neck, which was laid across his lap. Nicole was intently focusing on him, unbeknownst to Thomas. She knew.

"Rise and shine," Nate said. "We're here."

. . . . .

Less than an hour later, their pokémon found themselves returned to their balls while their trainers were seated around a long, dark table. Armed guards stood around every corner of the building, ready to act at a moment's notice. And yet, despite all the security measures, there was no denying that everyone there felt at risk. After all, if Stone's forces could break through _Johto's_ defenses, then a building like this would be fairly easy. But it was still their best option for the time being.

"Thousands of work hours already have been dedicated towards finding Douglas's assets," Giovanni started, "and we've narrowed things down quite a bit within Kanto's borders. Airports of course, but we're having to assume the worst given the circumstances. We're keeping an eye on any military bases within the country's borders just to be safe. After all, he's got jets and the like."

"So what have you come up with?" Wesley asked. Giovanni hit a button on the remote, making the monitor behind him buzz to life. A map of the region popped up - one with varying colored circles, each covering certain spheres of influence and likelihoods.

"The first wave of missiles was relatively short range stuff. Probably came from within a couple hundred miles from the site of impact. That makes this half of the region more likely, unless they were launched from some sort of vessel. I doubt that though. You're talking billions there - that's hard for even Douglas to afford."

"So how many locations are we talking about?" John asked.

"Couple dozen. It'll take us awhile, but we can get our guys into most of these places within a few months. Then we'll start keeping tabs on everything. The military more than likely has no idea what the hell's going on here, and for the sake of regional stability, it might be best that things stay that way. We can take the problem out quietly, clean shit up, and pin it on the trafficking organization. After all, that's exactly what it is. But if he's got things spread out everywhere… we might have a much larger problem on our hands." It would then be very difficult to remove the insurgents and their weaponry without instigating a conflict of some sort.

"I don't think it will come to that," Alex said. "Think about it - Douglas may have had bases and operations spread around the region, but you're talking a lot of shit that he wants to keep really well hidden. Hell, missiles and aircraft? That stuff can be so easily traced - it'd be suicidal to keep it spread around over several areas. Granted, he's probably removed serial numbers from everything - that's been done for all the weapons we've confiscated from them. But still he'd be running a huge risk of getting caught if he funneled illegal weapons through federal property. And if he left the serial numbers untouched, then he reveals both his sellers and his buyers."

"That's a really good point," Giovanni said. "I hope that's the case. It'd make our job a hell of a lot easier to be able to carpet bomb a single base than to try and uproot a cancer within the military." He shifted his focus back to the map. "That being said, I think we best play it safely and start collecting information about bases on the western half of Kanto, as well as any outliers."

"Fair enough. As for us, all available resources will be diverted to focus on your intelligence-gathering efforts. If something goes down, Johto will make sure you have the backup necessary," Wesley responded.

They discussed the plan for the remainder of March and April - mostly keeping them and other forces nearby in case of a firefight. After the meeting had concluded, Nathaniel led them down to the housing sector. But once they stepped off onto the fifth floor, they realized there was another stop in mind. "Boss's idea," Nate said as he opened the steel-enforced door. Weapons lined the several walls, separated into categories and types. "He wants you all to be armed at all times. And sorry to say, but we don't carry Tavors." As much as Michael hated to admit it, a seven-shot revolver was not exactly going to be suitable if they were attacked in large forces again. They each spread out among the lengthy room, browsing over the vast array of choices.

Michael headed over to the pistol section - there must have been at least fifty different models, with each one having accessories and spare parts directly beneath. As he was scoping out the various weapons, Thomas walked by with a G36, quickly scanned over the options, and grabbed a Glock-21. As Michael held a P226 in his hand, his eye was drawn to a couple of highly-accessorized Beretta M9A3s. The tan pistols had silencers, red-dot sights, and lasers on the bottom rail. He set the previous pistol down and took one of the M9s into his hand. He gripped it tightly, and, liking the feel of the gun, grabbed another.

After he snagged an MP5 as well, he headed outside with the others. Samuel had grabbed an AUG rifle, whereas the others had stuck with members of the AR platform. Nathaniel led them down to the living quarters - a series of rooms with two sets of bunk beds each, connected to a small restroom between each room. Bland, and much smaller than the rooms that they were used to, but they would have to make do. And a couple of housing changes were the least of their concerns for the time being.

"You all take it easy for a few days. I know you've each been through hell… so take some time to get back in the game. And once that's done, we're gonna get those fuckers and make them pay for all this."

Michael was given a room to himself - he'd need all four beds for him and all of his girls. He dropped his bags and set the guns onto the lone desk in the center. Michael then removed the belt containing the five luxury balls and looked at it for a moment before setting it to the side. Love them as much as he did, he wanted to be alone right now. After he locked the door, he took a seat against it. His mind drifted towards the man responsible for all of this and how he had forced all those people into slavery. How he had caused tens of thousands to suffer, and how he had killed that many more. And now, he had taken one of his best friends from him.

But they weren't about to sit this one out. Douglas couldn't even comprehend what was in store for him. He had woken a sleeping beast within Johto's military, and it would stop at nothing to bury him and everything he had ever done. And as for the Reapers… they weren't just coming because it was their job. They were coming for a head.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **My apologies again for the late update. We are beginning to come close to the end of part one of the story - _almost_ a third of the way there in terms of chapters. It's looking like about 33 for this part of the story, so perhaps 100 chapters in total. I can't say anything about word count yet. **

**If you'd like to get into direct contact with some other well known authors in this fandom and I, don't forget to shoot me a PM requesting the Discord info. Until next time!**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N:**

 **Hey guys. Sorry I disappeared for awhile. Been nearly three months since this story was updated, so I kinda felt bad about that. To make it up to you all, I made sure that this chapter had a lot of content within it. Hopefully you all will enjoy as we near the end of the first major section of the story (about another four chapters or so). And if you enjoy my writing style, please consider giving my Mystery Dungeon story, _Into Darkness_ , a read.**

 **Also wanted to mention that we've now hit over 40,000 views, and we're nearing 200 followers. I don't know what to say other than you guys are awesome!**

 **Thanks to both Vixal and Orthros for proof reading this chapter previous to publication. My spellcheck has an odd habit of changing misspelled words into something hilariously different, so it was nice to have other eyes on this chapter before everything was uploaded.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse.**

 **-John Stuart Mill**

* * *

 **Ch. 25 - Facing the Darkness**

The Indigo League was as incredible a sight as the day he and his team had last stepped foot there. Only now, it failed to invoke the sense of awe within the Reaper that it had then. Michael sat at the cliff overlooking the hundreds of mountains and the snow-covered final destination for so many trainers, his feet dangling over the edge. Light reflected from the snow shot back into his eyes, blocked by the aviators of his buried friend.

"You planning on avoiding us all day?" Layla asked from behind him.

"That's not what I'm doing…"

"Mhm, sure." She took a seat beside him, then quickly looked down. "M…Michael…" He turned to look at her horrified expression, her ears having dropped to the sides.

"I'm not… if that's what you're wondering…"

"I just… wasn't sure… Your aura… it's so negative…"

"I would never do something like that," he said.

"Alright. W-well… what are you doing out here?" the lucario asked.

"Just thinking… wanted to be alone for awhile…"

"Oh… do you want me to leave?" she asked dejectedly.

"No, you're fine." She positioned herself on his lap, having to be mindful of the three handguns positioned on his two hips. She placed her arms on his side.

"Look at me…" Michael met her gaze - her calm, soothing look. "Everything's going… to be okay. We love you, and we're all here for you. So please… don't shut yourself out…" Layla pressed her mouth to his, but he barely put any effort into the kiss. She silently withdrew from him, slightly saddened by his response.

On their way back to the base, Michael noticed the commotion on the runway. _That's weird…_ Usually everything was relatively quiet on Sundays, as most people were attending church. But a lone Chinook had landed and was unloading its cargo onto forklifts - several colossal segments of forged metal. Long and thick curved pieces that look like braces - and one that was undoubtedly a giant mask of some sort. _What the hell?_

"Could we… go inside?" Layla asked, apparently unconcerned with what was happening on the runway. "The others were looking for you…"

"Okay." The lucario gently took his hand and lead him back, to which he followed without another word. They entered the warmth of the base, where the others were waiting for the two of them.

"Where _were_ you?" Charlotte asked. "You just disappeared on us…"

"He was outside," Layla said.

"In this weather? Why?" The braixen's question went unnoticed to Michael as he checked his phone. An unread text message from Alex - they had a meeting in a few minutes in the conference room. He turned away, but his arm was grabbed by the vixen. "Hey - where are you going now?"

"Let me go Charlotte. The others are waiting for me."

" _We_ were waiting for you too. Are you just gonna blow us off like that?"

"I… what? I'm not—."

"We go looking for you for several hours after you just go and leave without telling anybody. And now you're heading off again and you've got nothing else to say?"

"…Look, I'm sorry, but I have to go. We'll talk about this later." With that, he left them to themselves.

 **. . . . .**

"Thank you all for showing up on such short notice," Giovanni said. Both he and Wesley sat on the other end of the table amid stacks of reports.

"Something wrong?" asked Kevin.

"Aside from the fact that we just got hammered, no," Wesley stated. "But we're not gonna wait around for something like that to happen again. The CIC's intel has narrowed down several locations of interest - places that we think could very well be hiding Douglas' aircraft. They've slipped people into dozens of locations already, but we need to get things moving faster."

"So here's what we're gonna do," Giovanni said. "Given the fact that there could very well be members of Douglas's organization within local airfields, we need to go through records in order to search for unregistered aircraft. We've been taking inventory of what's located within both the Brant and Kenneth Air Bases - former air force locations that have both been bought out by PMCs. We have found a couple of older models that we suspect may have been involved in the attack on your facilities and we need to access their records to see what all they have documented. If it's found out that those aircraft aren't legitimate, then Douglas may be running things out of these two bases, or he could be moving the planes back and forth. Whichever it is, we're gonna find out and have those things taken apart."

"But given the circumstances," Wesley continued, "this mission is going to be a lot harder than your previous stealth operations. For all we know, we aren't breaking into some thug hideout - these people very well could be innocent. Silenced MP5s and USPs in case the wrong people do happen to be present, but other than that, don't expect to use them. These aren't our enemies as far as we know. But we need this information - and if they do happen to be working for Stone, then it's unlikely they would just hand it over. They would interfere with the data if they knew that we were after it."

"So if we get caught?" Thomas asked.

"You won't have to worry about a thing - you're sitting this one out," Wesley replied. "As for the rest of you… don't get caught. We don't want to have to explain why we were snooping around within the walls of a paramilitary organization."

"Main thing is that we want to know about a couple of planes that they have on hand - one of them is a B2, and that was the first aircraft to strike Johto. There are only thirteen that have reportedly been built within the confines of Kanto - thirteen serial numbers that we have - so if this happens to be the one, then we've got a pretty damn good lead on him. The five of you just get the intel and leave the data analysis to us," Giovanni stated.

"As for who's going where, John and Alex will be sent to Brant - the smaller of the two - while Kevin, Michael, and Samuel will be going to Kenneth. Both teams will meet privately with me this afternoon to go over the layout of each base. Any questions?"

"Yeah, I got one - how long do you think it'll take to find out where Doug is?" asked Alex.

"Depends on the outcome of this mission. If it's found that the B2 or the other aircraft being stored there is illegal, then it would really help give us a few pointers towards who exactly Stone is doing business with. Interrogation might reveal where exactly he is, and from then on it'll be a straight shot. If it's all clean, though, then one option would be to continue searching for the locations of the other twelve B2s. It's gotta be somewhere - not like he just went and fucking built one." It wasn't fully the answer the Reapers were hoping for, but it was something.

"We'll be heading out in two days," Wesley said. "I'm sorry that you boys are heading right back out there so soon… especially after all that just happened… But the sooner we kill this man, the sooner we end this fight."

As he had said, they discussed the plans for the upcoming mission. Wesley and Nate would each be looking over satellite coverage to assist the Reapers in their infiltration of the bases, and it had been decided that Alaina would accompany Michael's group and assist with her natural invisibility. Each of the Reapers would be equipped with the EMP jammers that they had become familiar with in order to discreetly interfere with camera footage long enough for them to slip by. Since entering through the gate would be setting them up to get caught immediately, they would cut the fence towards the end of the runway, where there were almost no surveillance cameras. The route had been memorized - how exactly they would get to the command and control center, where cameras were throughout the base, and other similar information. It was ordinary for them, and yet, it felt nothing like it had before.

Their enemy was far more powerful than they had initially thought - Douglas could hurt and kill them with relative ease. In fact, they could all count it as a blessing that only one from their direct group had passed away in the attack. Nearly half the people in the base had died, after all. And if these two air bases just so happened to be completely run by Douglas, then they would be far outnumbered and would be forced to flee - and that was if they were lucky in that scenario. His days were numbered, they constantly tried to remind themselves. But with all that he was willing to do, and with all that his supporters stood for… they of all people were in the most danger.

It wasn't just the fact that they were in direct opposition to the traffickers. No, it was what members of the Twenty-Fifth also had done. Aside from the countless corpses in their footsteps - the bodies of many of Stone's best men - there was their domestic lives as well. None of them even wanted to think about what these enemies would do to those that were involved with pokémon. Likely something that would put The Assembly to shame. And at least two Reapers had something to fear in that regard. But they would all have to press on - the lives of countless others were at stake.

 **. . . . .**

A slight stir sounded in the night; though she was untraceable to the human eye, they could all clearly see the outline of the red dragon with their thermal vision. "No one's coming - you three are in the clear." Samuel stepped from behind the bush and immediately went to work with the pliers, cutting through a small section of the chain link fence. When he finished, he lifted the small segment - just large enough for them to crawl through - and set it to the side. They crawled under, ensured that they were out of sight, then got to their feet on the other side. The three soldiers kept to the fence until they approached the gym. The Officer's Club - the next facility they would pass on their route - was within view.

"There are currently two guys in front of the entrance. With their position, pretty sure that y'all could evade them," Nate said. "Twenty meters northwest from your current locations. I'm marking them on your visors now." Soon enough, two light blue silhouettes popped up on their visual displays.

"The less unconscious bodies we have to hide the better," Kevin said. "Alaina, could make a distraction to the left of them?"

"Of course," she replied. "I'll… find something to do. You all listen closely, alright?"

"Sure thing," Samuel said. She presumably left their presence and flew near the guards. A moment later, and this was confirmed when they heard a loud clash off to the side. _What on earth did she do?_

"The fuck was that?" one of the two guards asked. The blue silhouettes moved towards the sound, and the Reapers saw their chance to quietly slip by. They stepped quickly through the clearing while the two guards were distracted, then cautiously stood near the corner towards the edge of the building. The three of them were now facing the outskirts of the main section of the camp. About four hundred yards west from where they currently stood was the command and control center - right in the middle of the base.

"What's it looking like up ahead?" Kevin asked Nate.

"I'm seeing fifteen total feet on the ground. You route should intercept maybe another six. Cameras are outlined in green." Information regarding both obstacles was uploaded to their visors, and they mentally scanned through what all they would have to deal with as they made their way to the command and control center.

"There you are," Alaina said quietly from behind them.

"Hey. The hell did you do over there?"

"Knocked a trash can over. They probably thought it was a wild pokémon nosing around or something." As she said this, the other three were readying their EMP jammers. They would cross through this smaller clearing and take cover beside the barracks, where the road there would lead them towards the other side of the base. All three would need to be used back-to-back in order to slip by the cameras that aligned the side of the two-story building.

"You guys ready?" Kevin asked.

"Yep," Samuel said, "let's roll." They ran forward as Michael disabled the first camera, lightly sprinting underneath the large, concrete building as the cloaked dragon trailing close behind. Kevin stopped momentarily to use his EMP jammer, followed by Samuel once they got near the end. One lone guard was making his way towards their location, seemingly about to use the back entrance to the barracks. Must have been the end of his route. They all stood against the wall closest to the guard as he approached, remaining silent as he walked past, completely oblivious to their presence. The group waited until they heard him enter the building, followed by the closing of the metal door. Looking over the remaining guards that were out and about, they found it safe to cross - after, of course, one of them disabled the camera on the outer corner of the building. Since Michael's jammer had become operational again, he proceeded.

"It's down. Let's go," he said. They sprinted towards the final building: the command and control center. Unlike the barracks, it was significantly smaller and roughly square-shaped, but it was the most tightly secured nonetheless. They were approaching it from the side - and that required both Samuel and Kevin's jammers in unison for them to go undetected. They had to get in quickly, or they would undoubtedly be caught. And yet no matter which side they wanted to enter through - both front and back - there were two guards standing in front of the doors.

"Looks like there's no getting through without taking them out," Nate said. "You guys are gonna have to go for a non-fatal."

"Won't that defeat the whole purpose of not getting caught?" Kevin asked. "They're gonna know someone was snooping around if we knock out two of their guys."

"Hide the bodies. All that matters is that they don't know that _we_ were sneaking around. They can think whatever the hell they want for all I care, as long as there's no evidence of Reapers on the site."

"Well alright then. Alaina," Samuel said, "think you can take these two quietly?"

"I think so…" She levitated around the corner, coming to a halt right over the two guards. _Be careful…_ Michael's breath came to a halt as she prepared to deal with them. If she messed this up… no, she wouldn't…

In a swift motion, the rifles were yanked from the grasps of the guards. "What the f—." They were both hurled into the wall, a violent _smack_ sounding around the immediate vicinity as their heads struck the concrete. The three soldiers finally snuck around, getting out of the open.

"Well… so much for non-fatal…" Kevin said as they looked down at the bodies.

"They are alive," Alaina said in a hushed tone.

"Define alive."

"Shut up Kevin," Samuel said. "Nate, where are we gonna put these two guys?"

"I'm sure there are some rooms inside. Maybe a janitor closet or something."

"Hope we can find one in time. I don't wanna be caught dragging these two around in there." He took the card key from one of the unconscious bodies, while Michael and Kevin each took one. Swiping it in front of the reader, the door sounded with a light _click_ and a green light. Samuel then opened the door slowly, and one by one, they entered the building. The sniper took the lead position, readying his EMP jammer in case they should come across any cameras. None within immediate sight, but that was sure to change. And within the building, they had no knowledge of their locations. They all kept to the wall, slowly making their way towards the first hallway. Samuel ever-so-slightly peeked around.

"No one's out for now. If we wanna go, now's our time."

"Now where're we gonna put these two?" Kevin muttered. There were several doors throughout this hallway - hopefully own of them would be a small room of some sort. Only one way to find out. Samuel cautiously opened the first one they approached, revealing a small kitchen.

"That'll work," Nate said. "Hurry!"

Once they dragged the two inside, they set their weapons by the door and shut it. "We just gonna leave 'em here? They could wake up…" Kevin did have a point there, but they needed to move on.

"Michael," Nate said, "can you get Alaina to stand guard? I'm sure you all can sneak past a few cameras on your own. Those two wake up though, y'all are fucked."

"Yeah, will do." He began to speak aloud, albeit quietly. "Alaina, mind standing guard over these two?"

"Of course not. They won't interfere in the slightest." He nodded, then turned around, followed by the others. Kevin grabbed something from the countertop - a cast-iron frying pan - then handed it to the latias.

"If they come to, hit 'em with this."

"O…okay…"

The three Reapers checked to make sure the coast was clear before walking back into the hall. Shut doors aligned the wall to their right, while a small, open hallway was at the end to their left. "That's gotta be the stairs," Nate said. "Careful - there are probably cameras around the area." They proceeded with caution to the doorway, where Kevin peeked slightly around, then up.

"Oh shit," he said. "Right over the doorway. Pointed towards the steps." He took the jammer from his side and pointed it to the device merely two feet overhead. "We're good here."

"Get another one ready to be safe. Could be one at the top," Nate said. Listening closely, they heard mostly silence upstairs. Nearly everyone was in bed, of course. The only real threat that they faced was the guy watching all the security footage - and so far, they hadn't done anything to slip up. One step at a time, the three silently ascended towards the second floor. Before they had finished the first flight, though, a camera similar to the one they were currently standing in front of came into sight. Michael disabled it quickly - they had to move quickly, lest they get caught between the two right when the effects of the EMP jammers wore off.

It was once they neared the second story where they heard incoming footsteps. _Fuck, why not?_ And the jammer would only last for a minute more. Their breathing came to a halt as the brisk pace grew ever closer, the hardened leather echoing across the tile floor. Coming up with the best plan he could, Michael reached up and pushed the head of the camera until it faced towards the ceiling. They would know that the camera had been interfered with… but then again, complete stealth had gone out the window after knocking out those two guards. And they had more pressing matters at the moment…  
"Careful," Nate warned. "This is a great way to fuck everything up…"

"He won't see a thing," Samuel said as he position himself to the side of the door. Michael and Kevin went to the other side, waiting for the inevitable.

A man in his mid-thirties walked through the door - an office worker, by the looks of it. He was too focused on his phone to recognize the two Reapers that quickly made a move towards him. Samuel slipped both hands around his face, blocking him from seeing a thing or breathing as Michael kicked the back of his knee. He fell to the ground, where Samuel pinned him down as he continued to choke him out. He was overpowered, unable to move, and, before long, succumbed to the Reaper's strength. He stopped moving; Samuel smothered him for a few more seconds, then let off.

"Alright, now we got another one to hide," Michael muttered.

"The intel should be nearby. Drop him off there," Nate said. Outside of the doorway, a short hallway circled around the stair room. There was a slightly open door straight ahead of them. As they picked up the fallen man, Michael noticed that the phone was still on the previous internet page. Thinking quickly, he scrolled to the camera app and reversed it. He walked towards the doorway and slowly extended it outwards, facing the corners of the hallway to their left and right. A lone camera was situated in one of the corners. He took the phone back, slipped it into the man's pocket, and took care of the camera with his jammer.

"Let's go," he said. They crept as stealthily as they could while transporting an unconscious body. Before they went anywhere else, though, Kevin peeked through the ajar door.

"Here we are," he said. "Security." Presumably after making sure the room was vacant, he pushed the door open, revealing a large set of monitors, each displaying a different view throughout the base.

"Perfect. You can stop the recording process here," Nate said. "That's one less thing to worry about, anyways." Kevin went to work on the computer while Michael searched around the room. A messy desk with scattered papers was positioned along the wall adjacent to the door. _Under the desk you go._ He dragged the man over, where he silently set him down. "You don't suppose they kept inventory on that computer?" Michael asked.

"Nope - just footage," Kevin replied, before the monitors all went black. He then unplugged the system completely before taking out his dagger and cutting the main power cord. "Cameras are down."

"Good. By the looks of it, that footage is being sent to that external hard drive on the monitor. Take it with you." Kevin slipped the device into his vest, and they left the room with only one final destination left in mind. It had to be on the other side of the second floor. Without worry of being caught on camera, they walked straight around, coming to face a final doorway - a large, open room full of computers. It was completely empty. They entered and looked around. Servers towered alongside both walls.

"Great… where do we start?" Samuel asked.

"All of it - those drivers can hold it all," Nate replied.

"Oh? And how long's that gonna take?" asked Kevin.

"How should I know? However long it takes."

"Michael, give me your drive. You stand guard by the stairs," Samuel said. He tossed it over, then retraced his steps back while the other two went to work. He closed his eyes, trying to clear his head of all that had been troubling him. But the more he tried to push them out, the more those images flashed within his head. The frozen, pained expression on his face - the three gaping holes in his chest. He had looked nothing like the friend he had known in life, but rather a carnal and helpless creature.

It just wasn't fair. Right when he had gotten what he had wanted - a family - he was taken from them. It was just one more statistic under Douglas's kill count. Just another number. And how desperately he wished that he could forget about that number… But yet he had been far too good a friend to even consider blotting out of his memory.

Michael finally managed to pay attention to the three small icons on his visor. The progress on the download had increased to a whole 12%. And they still had over a dozen computers left. Annoyed, he propped himself up against the wall.

 **. . . . .**

"Alright, fucking finally," Kevin said. Michael stretched out and got back on his feet. He had decided to wait inside the security room for the past hour. Nobody had come upstairs, but he did have to knock out the office worker a time or two again. Hopefully everything had been okay for Alaina… More than a little ready to leave, the three reunited at the stairs and began to make their way back.

"Nice going - hardest part's over. Now get back to drop-off and we'll get you guys the hell out of here. I'd do it soon, too - they're gonna rotate shifts before long, so unless you wanna hide and keep track of half a dozen more bodies, I suggest you get outta there soon."

Going back the way they came, they found the building empty and silent… all except for a rough, shuffling sound in the kitchen. They hurriedly readied their weapons and pushed the door open, being greeted with a horrendous sight.

"Arceus fucking dammit - what did you do?!" Kevin asked aloud. Alaina was furiously scrubbing blood from the floor.

"H-he woke up!" she said. "I hit him and… I think I broke his nose…"

"…You _think_?"

"Did he see you?" Michael asked. That could be very problematic - Alaina was traceable to the Reapers.

"N-no… he couldn't see me… But they're gonna know…"

"Doesn't matter - we're bailing outta here now. They don't it was us," Samuel said. "Now come on - they could swing by here any minute!"

The four of them retreated into the night, leaving wreckage in their path - wreckage left by a ghost for all the PMCs knew. Hopefully it would all be worth it.

 **. . . . .**

"Well… the data was analyzed through without a hitch," Giovanni said with his hand on his forehead. All members of the Twenty-Fifth had been called in for a meeting to discuss the results of their missions.

"And?" Wesley asked. "What's the news?"

"Absolutely clean. Both of those groups had legally bought all that stuff. Douglas had no interference there…"

"Can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing," Alex said.

"Hell, I was hoping these could provide us with some leads. But it looks like we'll have to continue searching."

"So then what's the game plan now?" John asked. "He's gotta be hiding all that shit _somewhere_. It can't be that hard to find a giant base run by paramilitaries…"

"If that was the case, don't you think that we would've found them by now?" Nate answered. "Kanto is massive and he could be anywhere within it."

"What makes you say that?" Kevin asked.

"What do you mean? Our sources have known this for awhile now. What are you suggesting? That he's hiding away in some other region? And then sending all these guys into the same country over and over to carry out these missions? And to top it all off, transporting all this military tech _back_ over there? Well shit, I hope he bought himself an aircraft carrier while he was at it."

"Calm the fuck down," Kevin retorted, "it was only an idea."

"A pretty stupid one, if you ask me," Nate said.

"Both of you shut up," Giovanni said. "Fuck's sake, it's like listening to children bicker." Both Kevin and Nate quieted down, though he was unable to stop the occasional glare between the two. "Now, here's what we're gonna—." A phone began to ring from within the room. They all looked towards the source; Giovanni withdrew his cell from his pocket. 'Unknown Caller' was the only thing on the screen. He answered it, and by default, it went to speaker. "Hello?"

"Giovanni," the caller said.

"Who's speaking?"

"You know, I find it awfully funny that you guys are so desperate to find me that you're willing to go sneaking around on your own allies for information…" The room went deathly silent as the calm, collected voice continued. "But I will hand it to ya - you truly have made this whole thing one long, difficult ride. Too bad we're about at the end of the line."

"You're right about that," Giovanni replied. "Although it's going to end with a bullet in your head."

"Oh? Are you sure? Seems to me like we were just able to topple the world's strongest military power. I doubt a couple of militant blowhards like yourselves are going to stand a chance when we come knocking on your door. And believe me - we're gonna knock that fucker down just like we did in Johto."

"You're going to pay for what you did to all those people," Wesley said.

"Ah, so the others are listening in. Seems like I called at just the right time then. Tell me, how many of your boys went into the dirt?"

"None of them you son of a bitch."

"Well that's a damn shame," Douglas said. "But I guess I shouldn't complain. We lost some people - that's for sure - but I think we did pretty well for our first offensive strike. And as valuable as Reapers are… ten thousand regular troops is far more significant a loss, wouldn't you say?

"We don't need an army to take you down," Wesley said.

"I'd disagree with you on that. The CIC and Reapers pale in comparison to our forces - to our sheer numbers. But I guess you'll just have to see for yourselves. And trust me, that will be soon enough."

"Looking forward to it."

"Well, it's time for me to head out. Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day for me… and for you. I'm going to be there - hopefully I may see you. Well, I mean… your bodies, that is." With that said, Douglas hung up, leaving everyone in the room at a loss for words. It wouldn't be long before they would see - he was not bluffing.

 **. . . . .**

He went to unlock his door, but realized that it wasn't necessary. Going inside, though, he found only Alaina to be there. "Where is everybody?"

"Ver's out flying. Layla and Charlotte are battling, and I'm guessing Elise is watching them."

"Oh." She came closer to him, then placed her arms to his sides.

"What's wrong?"

"…You're joking, right?"

"No Michael…"

"Let's see… well, for starters, one of my best friends just got buried, so there's that. We both just went and beat the ever living shit outta a bunch of our own allies, so that's also weighing in on my mind. And then to top things off, Douglas of all people calls us in the middle of a meeting, saying he's gonna destroy the base tomorrow. I don't know Alaina - I don't know what's wrong." She pressed her body against his, wrapping him in a tight embrace. He stood still for a moment, but halfheartedly returned suit. "Look… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you like that…"

"I understand Michael… you've been through a lot these past few days…" _That's an understatement…_ "But… we are all your family here, and none of us are at fault. You need not shut yourself away from us - we are here to help you through this."

"I know… and I'm sorry…" She gently pecked his cheek as they remained locked together.

"This will all work out in the end. That horrible man will face justice for what he has done," Alaina said.

"I hope so. I want him to suffer just as we have…"

"No. We are not like them," she warned. "We do not have to sink to their level, and you know that. We will take his life, and that will be the end of all of this."

 **. . . . .**

The base had been ready ever since the call had come. Tanks were fueled up and loaded onto C-17s, ready to be dropped wherever they needed to be. Scouts had been deployed within a fifty mile radius to report for any signs of enemy traffic. It seemed as though every available weapon on base was loaded and ready to go. The Reapers certainly had several at their disposal.

The entire morning was tense. Very little was said, and secretly everyone there was wondering if they would be claimed by Douglas's ever-growing death toll. But the scouts had continuously reported no signs of the enemy. Nothing at all.

Throughout the lunch break, nobody seemed hungry - the feeling of dread made it far too difficult to eat. Already so soon after the events in Johto, and they would be engaged in another fight just like that. This time they were prepared though. That didn't shake the anticipation of what was inevitably coming their way. At least the company of the girls gave Michael some relief, though.

It was nearly three o'clock when it started. They were waiting in their rooms with the doors open when the announcement was made. "All combat-ready personnel! Report to the docking bay immediately!" Michael and the others got up, readying their weapons as people began to run through the hallways. "Please… please be careful," Elise whimpered.

"I will," Michael said. "I want you five to shut that door and don't open it for anyone, got it? Alaina…" Michael withdrew the two Berettas from his side. "You know how to use these. If things go south down here… if someone forces their way through that door…"

"Then I will blow their brains out."

"…Good. I love you all so much, and just in the off-chance that—."

"None of that talk!" Veronica said. "You are coming back - right here! You understand?!" She couldn't maintain her facade throughout this, though.

"Of course Ver… Nothing's going to happen to me. If I survived shrapnel through the heart and Douglas's surprise attack… then this won't be a problem."

"It better not be," she said with tears in her eyes.

"It won't. Now you help protect your sisters. I will see you all tonight… maybe tomorrow at the very latest."

Shutting down that conversation had been the most difficult thing he had ever done. If he didn't do it, though… then there was no chance they'd actually let him go. None of them knew if they were coming back from this one. But yet that was what they signed up for. And now, his very reason for joining was about to be fulfilled. Douglas himself would be there - somewhere in the mix. Michael's hand rested on the revolver. That was what would finish Stone off if he could help it. Soon, the Twenty-Fifth was grouped together, making their way towards the docking bay.

"Ready for this?" Samuel asked him.

"Not one bit," Michael replied.

"Yeah… same here."

"But it's almost over…"

They reached the bay, where a large projector beamed on the wall. One of the local news channels had gone live, showing the scene that nobody had expected - all coordinated with the brilliance as if it had been planned for years. It probably had been. It was Viridian City - no mistaking it. They were roaming the streets, dressed in camo and armed with AK-47s. _How?! How did they do it?_ There had been no word of conflict breaking out - and certainly no word of these guys approaching an entire city. Where had they come from? One of the armed militants - donning a dark black beret - finished talking with a small crowd of officers, then made his way towards the camera.

"Hello there, fellow citizens of Kanto. I am General Wallace, military leader of the future of this region - the freedom fighters that so many of you have longed for. The time is now; we're not sitting on our asses while we watch history repeat itself within our boundaries. A course of action has now been long past due. It is time to take back our country - to put it back into the hands of the worthy. You may join a side, or you may sit it out and watch. But know this - all who side with this crooked, cowardly president will receive the exact same thing he does. Many have already come to their senses and want to embrace the new Kanto. People among you. Now you too can come to support a better future for this land. Or… you could die with those that want to poison it with perversion and with immorality. You make your pick, just like them." General Wallace motioned for someone off to the side. A mid-fifties male in a suit and tie appeared from the side.

"Fuck, Senator Hendricks!" someone yelled within the crowd.

"As he has said, it is now time to pick a side. The government has proven that it is both inadequate and far-too-willing to appeal to the left's every desire rather than what is best for the country. It is necessary to reestablish a sense of justice within Kanto. We have tried negotiations - the left, however, is a force that you cannot reason with. A bunch of selfish, twisted little children that must now face the consequences of their years of stupidity. As a result of the ideological war that _they_ have started, Viridian City is siding with Douglas Stone and his forces!" Wallace nodded, a grin plastered on his face.

"Thank you for your words, Senator." He turned back to the camera. "This is the beginning of a new era for our region. We will expel this cancerous group from Kanto." One of the officers from before came up to Wallace, then said something quietly to him. "Looks like it's time for a word from our leader. Off to you, Stone." He pulled out and aimed it at the camera. Static almost immediately took over. The screen remained that way for a moment, then was replaced with another scene - this one being far different in nature.

The same insurgents populated Pewter City; thousands upon thousands of them - in the streets, on the tops of the buildings - everywhere. In the background they could see helicopters swarming through the skies. All those enemies so close by… and they had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. _How did they do it?_ His thoughts were interrupted by two insurgents leading a hooded figure towards the top-right corner of the screen. They ripped off the covering from his face, revealing a young black-haired man.

"Who is that?" Michael asked a nearby soldier.

"…That's Ron Mosley… the Senate Majority Leader…" _Oh fuck…_ Given the current scenario, it wasn't difficult to guess what political party he was on. But then _he_ came. Older than what he had been in the picture… but there was no mistaking who they were looking at.

"This right here… this is good," he said. "It couldn't have worked out any better - watching the true Kantonians rise and take back their land… and watching people like you get what has long been overdue." He walked up to the senator, making him flinch as he stopped nearly a foot away. "Where's all that charisma that you always had on television? Oh, that's right… it's a lot easier to spout your bullshit rhetoric among an echo chamber than it is to actually stand up for your views in the face of hostility. But then again, courage isn't exactly something you liberals are familiar with, now is it?" Not a word came from the scared senator, and not a sound aside from his rapid breathing. Douglas withdrew a knife - a Kabar - from the sheath on his side, seeming to investigate the blade in front of him.

"P-please…" Ron begged, "please d-don't do th—."

"Do what?" Douglas asked. "Carry out the punishment that you rightfully deserve? You have sold your country out - thrown them under the bus with your bullshit ideals! I'll give you this - I've done far more than my fair share of horrible shit. And I will be the last of my kind in history. But you, on the other hand… you all will not stop until you have a stupid, blinded population. You will stop at nothing short of radicalization - just like Hoenn. And the left will not be happy until every shred of dignity has been forced out of the region. People like you are what is wrong with this planet; as long as you obtain the position you want, you are perfectly content with ripping out the very heart and soul of your country. I've watched it happen before my own eyes. Tell me, do you know how that feels?" He placed the tip of the knife to Ron's chest, receiving another bout of pleas from the senator.

"No! Please don't… do this!"

"It feels… a lot like this." Calm as before, Douglas slowly pressed the knife inwards, not being phased in the slightest as Ron yelled in pain, wildly squirming within the grasps of his captors. Douglas brought his other hand to the handle to steady himself, then forced it all the way in to the very hilt before letting go completely. He nodded to the insurgents, causing them to release their holds on the senator, who fell to the ground as he struggled to breathe his last.

"Oh fuck… what the fuck," someone said from within the crowd.

"I apologize that you had to see that, Kanto. Really, I do. But it's time to grow up and leave this leftist disease behind you. Rise up and take your country back from those who would seek to destroy it. Rise with us… and together, we will create a land worth living in!" The picture was once again replaced with static.

The bustling room fell silent as everyone turned to face something in towards the back of the room. Giovanni had entered, with both Nate and Wesley at his side.

"Alright, as you all just saw, this maniac has just taken over two cities at a very close proximity to us. Within the hour, many of you will be headed into direct fire. Reinforcements from Johto, Sinnoh, and PMCs across the country will be joining us. Now let's make sure we end this war just as quickly as it started. This sick fuck is going to pay with his blood for all that he's done, so let's make that happen!" The soldiers all quickly applauded his words, but were then silenced by Nate.

"Alright, so listen carefully. Alpha Regiment is staying here - we need people stationed at base in case he's got plans to attack here. Beta will be headed to Viridian, and Charlie to Pewter. The second you step into that city, you are to fire at will. Do I make myself clear?" A loud "hooah!" echoed through the docking bay in response. "Good. They've taken this fight to us, just as they said they would. Problem is that there are civilians everywhere throughout the battlefield. Pay attention to where you are aiming - we need to keep civilian casualties as low as we possibly can. These are our families and friends. Don't allow harm to come to them, and don't be the cause of that harm. The enemies are going to be mixed throughout the terrain; this is going to take several days of fighting. But we will succeed, and we will be dragging that freak's lifeless body back with us!"

While everyone was getting ready to leave, Wesley approached the Reapers. "We're heading out in a few minutes. All of us are going straight to Pewter. This has become more than a little personal at this point. We're going to find where he's hiding and we're going to kill him."

They put their masks on and exited the base. In the distance, the Indigo League was locked up tight, with armed forces standing by, ready to protect all those inside. Hopefully, if everything went according to plan, no one near here would have to fire a single shot.

The runway was swarming with activity; the vast majority of the aircraft were readying themselves for takeoff, including the Chinook they had arrived in.

And the ride there… It seemed to be the quickest they had ever gone on. The anticipation made the hour feel like only a few minutes. They tried distracting themselves. Small talk had gotten them nowhere; most of them ended up fiddling with their weapons in a futile attempt to hide their nerves. Mainly, this short time was one for reflection. All this work - everything they had done and sacrificed - had led up to this very day.

Despite the reality of what they did for a living, they were now forced to face the truth - the truth that they had so bitterly learned back at their own base. Their jobs were dangerous, of course… but now they had truly seen _how_ dangerous. These people knew what they were doing - they weren't a group of untrained thugs. They were insurgents raging an ideological, twisted war, and they were more than capable of taking their lives. There was a frighteningly large probability - odds that they wanted to ignore - that one or more of them would be coming home in a casket. But they had to go. This was for all those statistics that Douglas had claimed. And to Michael… this was for Zeke.

A war was already raging when they got there, and for the first time ever, the Reapers witnessed actual dogfights. Jets in the distance from both sides were twirling in a morbid, graceful dance among the skies. Gunfire was steady and unceasing.

"We're gonna have to drop you off here," the pilot said, descending towards the highway where many of their allies had started setting up a temporary base. "We won't last long over there!"

"Understood!" Wesley said. "Boys, get ready!" Michael and the others loaded a round into the chamber of their rifles. Michael also dropped a 40 mm grenade into the M203 mounted on the bottom of his own rifle while Thomas was going about straightening out his ammo belt for his Negev. The Chinook came to a quick landing among the field, and the six Reapers quickly stepped out of the aircraft.

"What's the plan?" John asked.

"Over there," Wesley said, motioning to the dozens of RG-31 Nyalas that had been parachuted in. "Join the CIC in their raid. You all will be hitting the city from the south. Watch the skies - the air force will do its best to keep the enemy birds off of you, but nothing's guaranteed. Get to cover if that happens - you won't be able to take a missile. Now get out there and bring that fucker down!"

They ran and joined the others among the heavily-armored vehicles. "Y'all tagging along with us?" asked a second lieutenant.

"Looks like it," answered John.

"Good," he said back. "You six get the second-to-last one over there. We roll out in two minutes!" The vehicle was mounted with an M2 on top, complete with two steel plates to shield the gunner.

"I've got that," Thomas said. He was the best for that job - no questions about it. But the fear lingered in Michael's mind - Thomas was a very large target, and nothing that would be shot at him could be stopped by his bulk.

The others got inside the armored vehicle and shut the doors. The first one about a hundred meters ahead of them began to move - they were heading into the city. "Kevin," Alex said.

"What?"

"Still so sure about not having any religion?" he asked.

"Yeah. What's that got to do with anything?"

"Might wanna change that right about now…" John hit the ignition, and they were moving. An F-16 was shot out of the air miles ahead of them. One of their own - the first one ever to lose a dogfight in history. They could only watch as it spiraled into a skyscraper, striking it with enough force to carve out a frighteningly large portion of it… along with all those within the vicinity. Michael silently prayed as they drew ever closer to the most deadly conflict they had ever experienced. And as they neared one of the bridges on the interstate, the machine gun over their very heads began to unleash a barrage of lead. _Arceus… please help us through this…_

This was their chance to end it all, but it was a gamble. The time had come for the militaries of the free world to face off against the forces of darkness. The time had come… for them to kill Douglas.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **And now I get to leave you with a cliff hanger. To be fair, though, the next chapter is going to be fairly lengthy for an action scene, so there's a lot of planning to do with that.**

 **Let me know what you think in the review section. Until next time!**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N:**

 **Glad to have gotten this one out there a lot faster than the previous chapter. As things stand, this is by far the longest continuous action scene yet, reaching the same length as the HQ raid in a single chapter. So with that being said, I hope that you all enjoy!**

 **Thanks to Orthros for proof reading this chapter before publication, and pointing out better ways to word a lot of stuff.**

 **I have not gained spontaneous ownership of Pokémon.**

 **Reviews are greatly appreciated!**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent."**

 **-Marilyn vos Savant**

* * *

 **Ch. 26 - The Battle for Pewter**

"It's coming from the building!" Alex shouted. "Tenth floor, give or take!"

"Yeah, I see 'em!" Thomas shouted from the top of the vehicle. "I can't get up for a clear shot! I need cover fire!"

"You _are_ the cover fire!" Alex shouted as the bullets impacted the line of vehicles.

"They're shooting down on me, dumbass! If I even move I'm fucked!" The bulletproof windows were cracking as a result of the fire, but they could not move - deserted cars lined the streets, blocking them in a dangerous position.

"John! Roll the windows down a tad!" Samuel yelled.

"Are you fucking kidding?!"

"They're gonna break anyways if we don't do something! Now gimme something to work with!" Reluctantly, John hit the lever, causing for the nearly-shattered right windows to open up about two inches.

"Michael - shoot at the ones on the right! On my mark!" Michael tilted his rifle to the side, allowing him to faintly point the red dot sight level with the enemies. "Now!" They both began to empty their clips in the vicinity of the insurgents, finally managing to return fire of their own. Once their magazines had run out, the enemies had finally taken cover of their own. Only Samuel managed to even hit anyone, but that wasn't their intention.

"There we fucking go!" Thomas said. The enemies prepared to launch another attack, but they received a storm of .50 caliber instead. Not letting the opportunity do to waste, the other remaining gunners throughout the convoy joined suit. The powerful bullets tore through the building and the enemies within their paths. Several began falling to the ground, and soon there was nothing left to kill. "Good, roll out now!" Wesley said. "Get around those cars and head towards the center of town!

The convoy began to carefully navigate through all the wreckage, slowly finding the most efficient path towards their destination. A tremendous explosion could be heard overhead, and fortunately, they had looked up in time to see a flaming helicopter spinning out of control towards the convoy.

"Move!" Kevin yelled. John swiftly spun the wheel, turning the vehicle to the side and mashing the gas as the aircraft slammed into two of the first vehicles in the line. One of the gunners had not been able to jump off in time, and was cut in half by the powerful blades. The surviving passengers of the two RG-31s climbed out of the toppled vehicles.

"Keep going! There's nothing more you can do here!" Wesley said. John put it in drive and they were off once again, dodging the stationary cars on the freeway. A chain mall off to the right was in the process of being demolished by the two sides fighting within. "There! There are civilians inside!" Thomas took aim as John ran through small, wired fence on the side of the road.

"There!" Samuel said, pointing towards a still-standing restaurant. Enemies were retreating towards the back of the building, where they were likely to exit out the back.

"Is the coast clear in there?!" Thomas asked.

"You're good - no innocents in the line of fire!" said Samuel.

"That's all I need to hear. John, stop this fucking thing for a sec!" The vehicle came to a screeching halt, and Thomas began sawing through the building, cutting through several insurgents before hitting a large propane tank. The remaining enemies caught the blunt of the explosion, sending them flying in every direction through the crumbling structure.

"There you go!" Wesley said. "Now you boys help clear out the rest of the mall! They need help on the northeast corner!" A basic map was uploaded to the top right segment of their visors, showing a red region where the Commander had specified.

"Roger that. Heading there now," said John. He sped up, driving straight through the central plaza. A small trio of insurgents was laying down fire towards their own infantrymen, causing them to resort to prone positions within a general pokémart. "Don't waste the bullets!" John said over the comm. He headed straight towards the enemies, who only realized too late that a seven-ton vehicle was coming their way. Their bodies were crushed by the sheer weight of the truck, and they lay crumpled and broken in the trail of the Reapers.

Up ahead they could see the situation that Wesley had spoken of. One soldier was carrying a wounded friend as he fled from the enemy, only to catch a bullet straight to the back of the head. The remaining members of the army were in a similar state of retreat, with things not looking well for them at all. "Thomas, get ready! I'm not stopping!"

"All set!" He had geared the M2 towards the west by the time they left the cover of the buildings. The dozens of enemies immediately ducked for cover when they started catching fire. Thomas kept the weapon body-level to them as he held the trigger, blowing sizable holes within each and every individual he shot. They quickly reciprocated, and the back window on the left side broke, sending glass inside the vehicle. John swerved, causing those inside to be flung to the right while Thomas had to hold on for dear life. Nevertheless, he continued delivering fire to the enemies a mere moment later, going until he ran out of ammunition. At that point, Kevin leaned out the window and pitched in, giving Thomas the cover he needed to jump down and climb inside the vehicle.

"Good work. By the looks of things, this location should be secure. Now start working your way towards the center - you should join in with some CICs coming from the east!"

"On it!" John said. He got them back on the road, where the heart of the city came into sight once again. Smoke was rising from within, and half of the aircraft that had been present from the start had already been shot down. From the deadly aerial display came an F-22, heading south towards them.

"Is that one of ours?" asked Samuel. Their answer came when a missile was projected towards their direction. "Shit, no it's not!" John steered them as far to the right as possible, taking them towards the field, but was unable to completely avoid the incoming explosive. The RG-31 was hurled into the air, slamming the Reapers into the doors and each other, then crashing violently into the ground. It finally came to a rolling stop with the vehicle resting upside down.

"F…fuck," Kevin groaned. "That fucking hurt…"

"Is everyone okay?!" the Commander asked in concern.

"Yeah… I think so," John answered. "This thing's fucked if you couldn't tell… Everyone get your shit and get out. We're gonna need to make a run for it." Smoke was already starting to come from within the hood.

Michael's head throbbed as he made an effort to search for his rifle, which he eventually found underneath Alex. After grabbing it, he worked his way towards the rear door and shoved it open, scanning the terrain for any enemies. "We're… clear," he groaned, before crawling outside. The others made their way out of the destroyed truck and got to their feet as quickly as they could.

"Y'all aren't far from the others," Wesley said, before a marker showed up on the top of their screen, pointing northeast and showing the objective to be about seven-hundred meters due north. "Get there and help them with whatever they need."

As they ran towards the specified location, the Reapers found themselves keeping as close as possible to the small traces of woodlands in order to stay out of sight of the several aircraft. Nobody seemed to know what belonged to who, and it was far better to avoid taking a risk when they could just as easily be wiped out as a unit. Throughout the small forest, a couple of wild pokémon could be seen nesting down, wanting nothing more than to shut out the war that was raging around them.

When they had just about stepped out into the clearing, which revealed the eastern highway system, they spotted a group of enemies positioned behind a collapsed bridge nearly a hundred meters north of their location, shooting towards the slowly advancing CIC. One guy immediately spotted them, and they quickly began laying down fire in the Reapers' direction.

"Well shit!" Alex said as they retreated back into cover, "That could have gone a lot better!"

"No way you're gonna make it through that," Wesley said. "Split up and pick them apart! Thomas, lay down cover fire for the others!" Michael ran towards the west with Samuel while the others split off into two other groups. Thomas aimed his Negev towards the enemy and began to fire in rapid, successive bursts, causing them to take cover behind the wreckage. "Good! Now's your chance!" Michael aimed his rifle high, intending to make use of the M203, the mask calculating the curvature of the projectile for him. Samuel simply flipped to semi-auto. Thomas stopped firing, and pretty soon, the enemies quickly looked up. The distinguishable _thud_ sounded as Michael pulled the trigger. In the distance, several had dropped as a result of the group's tactic, and a split second after they had taken cover, the grenade reached their location, taking out several in one hit. None of them showed any signs of movement.

That being dealt with, they were able to make their way towards the incoming CIC. "You joining us?" a lieutenant asked them.

"Yeah," answered Alex. "What's the plan?"

"We'll be hitting the fourth district. There's a blockade a kilometer and a half away. We'll need to get through that before we're going anywhere."

"Alright then," Alex said.

"I'll try to get one of our fighters to pave the way for you, and tanks are making their way there now," Wesley said, "but proceed with caution - I'm seeing a lot of enemy personnel stationed there."

"Spread out!" the commanding officer of the nearby CIC said. "Wedge formation - and make way for the vehicles!"

The journey to the blockade provided them with next to no cover, as they had to traverse over the highway to get there. But before long, the aforementioned blockade came into view - the enemies had constructed a barrier out of the abandoned vehicles to stop the CIC's progression into the rest of the city. Further behind was the makeshift fortification, created out of stacked sandbags and mounted LMGs. They immediately ducked behind whatever cover they could in order to avoid being mowed down by the barrage headed their way. The Reapers were positioned against a pickup truck, low to the ground in order to avoid the lethal storm overhead.

"Wait it out!" Wesley said. "They'll be there any second now!" And soon enough, the unmistakable sound of the M1 Abrams rushing at full speed could be heard approaching. Two of them sped onto the battlefield, neither one of them wasting time before blasting the road block with their powerful 120mm cannons. The insurgents immediately took cover behind their fortifications, but it wouldn't do much good - sand bags couldn't stop that kind of weaponry. The Reapers stood up, taking aim at various locations throughout the enemy's territory as the CIC quickly began to advance across the highway.

Fire was exchanged from both sides as the tanks quickly closed the distance between themselves and the insurgents. Michael kept his sights towards the top of the wall, laying down fire every time an enemy dared to reveal any part of his body whatsoever.

"What the hell is that dumbass doing?" Samuel said, referring to one particular enemy. He was continuously looking over the edge for a split second, as if constantly evaluating the situation.

"Hell if I know, but he's about to catch a bullet!" Michael responded, squeezing the trigger in a short, three-round burst. Being nearly a thousand meters away, though, he was unable to land a hit, and the enemy scrambled behind cover once again. "Fucking prick! Try it again!" The tanks had covered nearly half the distance, and that's when they noticed it. But it was far too late to intervene.

In hindsight, they should have noticed something off about the positioning of the 18-wheeler towards the middle of the highway. It dawned on them that the one odd enemy from before had been checking the locations of the tanks. And now, they were right in the danger zone. Almost instantly, the trap had been activated. Somewhere in the flash, both Abrams had disappeared, along with everything else in the vicinity. "Perfect," Kevin said. "Really, that's just fucking perfect."

A giant crater had formed in the middle of the road, and somewhere on the other side of the still-raging inferno, vehicles could be heard speeding towards them. "Brace yourselves!" the lieutenant ordered. As if they would be dumb enough to try to advance.

"New plan!" John said. "Find cover towards the sides! We'll flank 'em when they come!"

"Alright. Hey!" Thomas yelled to the commanding officer, "Tell your men to keep 'em busy!" The Reapers split up, three to each side of the road. They sprinted forward, using the smokescreen from the explosion to cover their presence. Michael positioned himself behind an overturned SUV as he waited for the enemy, loading another 40mm grenade into the M203. With three different angles on the incoming enemies, they were at a great vantage point to pick them off.

"ATVs incoming," the Commander said. "I'm seeing four of them!" The armored vehicles sped towards the CIC, mounted with either M240s or Mk 19 grenade launchers. Those had to be put down quick. Michael waited for a closer shot - his grenades could only reach so far. But someone on the other side - likely Samuel - started firing as soon as they could. One of the gunners on top of the vehicles fell over the side of the ATV, coming to a violent rolling stop on the asphalt. The others quickly shifted their aim towards the Reaper, only to catch fire from the Negev on the other side.

"Great!" Wesley said. "Keep that up!" One of the two remaining gunners began firing the Mk 19 towards Samuel's general direction, only for a grenade to hit the side of his own vehicle. The ATV shook harshly as a result, causing for the enemy to fall off of it. The enemies began to turn around, realizing that they needed the last remaining gunner to cover their retreat back to their own lines. That is, if they even managed to survive the onslaught they were receiving from the CIC. One of the vehicles came to a gradual stop; the driver had been shot.

The sound of a jet permeated the air, and everyone looked up. _Fuck… not now…_ They were all stationed behind visible cover - not physical. They were sitting ducks for an aircraft, especially one such as this one: an F-15.

"Hawk… is that one ours?" asked Alex. His answer came in the form of the missiles being dropped straight through the road - consuming the enemy vehicles and cutting straight through their front lines. The jet kept dropping its payload off into the distance.

"That answer your question?" Wesley replied.

With the threat having been reduced to nearly nothing, the Reapers and the CIC were able to progress towards the center of the city. As they passed over the remains of the insurgents' fortification, the smell of burnt flesh was unmistakable.

"What's the plan now?" Kevin asked as they ran.

"Marines from Sinnoh will be joining you from the south," the Commander Hawkins replied. "Help them clear the buildings, starting with the nearest pokémon center. There are a lot of hostages in there - be careful."

"Roger that," Michael said. A pokémon center was usually bustling with activity, and on a Saturday of all days. Surely there would have been a lot of people inside when the terrorists started roaming the streets. But unlike the armed forces, _they_ did not care if a bunch of civilians were wiped out. The difficulty for the Reapers would lie in attacking the terrorists from enough angles to take them out without harming innocents. And that was probably an unlikely scenario.

The highway led to a four way intersection, where they faced some minor resistance from the few surviving enemies of the recent bombing. "You're just about there!" Wesley said as Michael shot an insurgent, crawling with both of his legs broken. "The marines are fighting their way north, about half a kilometer away from your current location. Help them break through if they need it."

As they ran towards the next objective, they found themselves bordering the suburbs near the southwestern part of the city. In the distance marines could be seen exchanging fire with the enemy all around. Backyards had become visual cover for members of both sides alike. "Fuck, it'll take forever to break all this shit up," Kevin said.

"It's important these guys get through!" Wesley said. "More important than hitting the pokémon center right away - put that on hold for the moment. No civilians aside from the senator have been killed. But if this shit keeps up, half the people in these neighborhoods will be killed from collateral damage." Samuel propped his rifle on top of a wooden fence, aiming off into the distance.

"Shit, it's looking pretty rough back there…"

"How many?" asked Thomas.

"Can't tell. Maybe forty?"

"Something like that," Commander Hawkins answered. "I'm uploading their locations to you right now!" The blue outlines appeared almost immediately, some of them being only two houses over. Samuel pointed his rifle towards a group of three and fired through the fence on the other side. The silhouettes dropped one after another in quick succession.

"These things aren't gonna stop bullets. They're relying on visual cover, so we've got the upper hand. It'd be best for us to spread out and take them out while they're focused on the marines!" All six of them headed in their own direction, with Michael sprinting down the street towards a significantly-damaged house. A single enemy was within, shooting out the back window towards Sinnoh's forces. _Facing the other way_ , Michael thought to himself. He silently slung his rifle over his shoulder - not that a little noise would have mattered anyways when the enemy was rapidly unloading the magazine of his AK-47. But he didn't want to arouse any suspicion in his efforts to conserve a few bullets.

Michael crept through the blown-open front entrance, his dagger in hand as he stepped over the mounds of sheetrock among the dusty atmosphere. A man, woman, and a small child were huddled up in the living room. He raised a single finger to where his mouth was, continuing forth until the kitchen came into view. Water was spraying in every direction, clearly the result of busted pipes from gunfire. The moment he stepped around the corner, the firing ceased. The empty magazine was ejected; the second the insurgent reached over for another one, he must have seen the Reaper in his peripheral.

"Fuck!" he yelled, trying to thrust the bayonet-mounted barrel towards Michael. He dodged it and grabbed the rifle with his left hand, slicing his own weapon through the chest of his opponent. He dropped the AK in response to the painful slash, then quickly reached for the USP-45 at Michael's side. _Not on your fucking life!_ Michael head-butted the enemy, following through by hauling back and thrusting his dagger through the his stomach. Michael pushed further in as he gasped, the breath being forced out of his lungs. The enemy's grip lightened on the still-holstered pistol, which Michael grabbed and put to his head.

"One down over here," Michael announced after the noise had subsided. "What're things looking like out there?"

"East side is looking a lot better," Samuel said. "Most of them are over there by you and Thomas. We're heading over there now!"

"Good," Michael said as he holstered the pistol. He then pulled the dagger out of the gut of the dead enemy, before wiping the blood off on the camouflage outfit. _It was a fucking ugly color anyways…_ "He's dead now!" Michael said aloud. "If you have a basement or cellar, get in it - stay clear of the attic though. Things are pretty bad outside if you couldn't already tell." Without looking at them again, he opened the back door and went outside. Thomas was nearly fifty meters left of his location, engaged in combat with four enemies in a nearby house.

"Keep up with the cover fire. I'll try to flank them," Michael said.

"Better sooner than later!" Thomas answered. "Gettin' low on ammo!" Michael ran in the southwest direction, making sure to move quickly and staying low to avoid raising alarm. He squatted beside a hedge, taking note of the movements of the guys firing towards Thomas' direction. _That's it… get just a little bit closer…_ The outlined figures were progressing towards the fence as Thomas retreated behind a house. He would take as many as he could, then pull back and find somewhere else to hide before attempting to pick them off again.

"He went that way!" one of them said. "You two - go around that way. I want that giant motherfucker dead!" _Shit, change of plans…_ He quickly ran across the yard, then took position beside the front porch. He raised the Tavor as the insurgents came closer.

"I've got these guys. Get ready to hit the others after I fire," Michael said.

"Gotcha. Be careful," the large Reaper replied.

"No promises." He could hear their rapidly-approaching footsteps on the charred earth, and his finger rested on the trigger. The two of them ran out into the open in an effort to help overwhelm Thomas, but they were too late to notice Michael's weapon pointed head-level towards them. Neither one knew what had hit them when the shots had been fired.

"The fuck was that?!" yelled the apparent leader of the enemy squad. He and the other guy quickly raised their weapons and started making their way towards Michael.

"Thomas, now's a good time - all eyes are on me."

"Perfect." A split second later, both of the two remaining enemies dropped in response to the quick burst of fire from the Negev, each filled with bullet holes.

"That takes care of them. What's the status now?" Michael asked. There were clearly a lot less enemies out and about - that much he could see from his display system.

"The marines are working their way north again. Good job!" Wesley said. "Things should be back on course. Now wait for them to join you so you can begin raiding the buildings!" Once the remaining enemies had been dealt with, three small squads of marines had established a perimeter within an abandoned house.

"Are y'all the guys we're supposed to meet?" asked one of the privates.

"Yep, that'd be us," John said. "I'm guessing you know the current objective?"

"Yeah - we're clearing out the pokémon center and surrounding buildings. Got a plan for how we're supposed to do it?"

"Not yet, no," admitted John. "Commander, can you send us a building layout?"

"Sure thing." While they were heading towards the pokémon center, the map appeared on the lower left hand corner of their displays.

"Thanks," John said, before speaking to the marines. "So there are three total entrances, and the front one would be kinda stupid to try and infiltrate." Even though the two sliding glass doors would make it a relatively easy task, the enemies would be able to see them coming from a pretty long ways away. "I think it would be best to split into two main groups and hit them from the back and side entrances. A couple others could distract them from up front while we slip in from behind."

"Sounds good to me," replied one of the marines.

"I'll scope things out and get their attention," Samuel said as the building of interest came into view. "Odds are they'll be too busy focused on me at first to notice you all sneaking in." The Reapers decided to go through the back, while the marines crept near the other door. Thomas carefully looked through the glass surface, and, seeing that it was clear, tried to gently open the door.

"Well, they're not here for the moment, but it's locked. Don't think they'd care if we busted it out if they're too busy dodging bullets."

"Got it," Samuel said, taking that as his cue. "Get ready." In the distance they heard him firing, and among the sounds of shattering glass were those of swearing and civilians screaming. Thomas smashed the glass door open with his Negev and opened it from the outside. They stuck to the walls, checking all of the doctors' offices as they passed them. A few tied up people here and there, and a lone guard - which John had taken care of with the butt of his rifle - but it seemed like the insurgents were mainly up front.

"Focus on the enemy. Others will be there shortly to evacuate the hostages." John straightened up before turning the corner, pointing his rifle towards the direction of the light footstep among the sounds of gunfire. The tip of a rifle barrel peaked from around the corner, and John immediately thrust his left hand out and pushed it to the side, shoving the end of his own weapon to the neck of the other.

"What the fuck man!" gasped the lead marine as John pulled back. "You could have killed me!"

"My mistake," John said quietly. "Looks like they're mostly in the front half of the building."

"Somewhere between eight to ten of 'em," Samuel said. "And they are _pissed_. They've got me pinned down."

"Not for long," Thomas said as he approached the door to the front desk. Michael and Kevin moved towards the patient door to the left, ready whenever the others were. Thomas started the assault, kicking the door open with a massive _thud_. He quickly mowed several enemies down before they had fully turned around alongside his comrades. The three or so insurgents that had survived the initial onslaught dove to the side, taking cover within the cafe behind the overturned tables. Michael quickly analyzed the situation, and seeing no civilians within his line of fire, began to shoot through the tables in hopes of hitting them, dotting their aluminum surfaces with bullet holes. The sound of his emptied magazine hitting the ground was the last within the building.

"You think they're all dead?" Michael asked over the comm.

"Only one way to find out," Thomas replied. He set his LMG on top of the counter as the marines began to create a defensive perimeter throughout the rest of the building. Withdrawing his pistol, he edged his way closer to the tables before looking over. "Yeah, they're pretty damn dead," he said indifferently as he holstered his pistol. As he walked back towards them, that's when the others saw the quick flash of movement from the edge of the counter.

"Look out!" Michael yelled. Thomas swiftly turned around and caught the enemy's arm, stopping the dagger nearly a foot away from his chest. The look on the terrorist's face was one of horror as he realized how badly he had fucked this up. Thomas thrusted his right hand into the throat of his would-be killer and lifted him into the air, only to slam him down onto the corner of the counter, snapping his neck in the process. "Stupid bitch," he muttered as he grabbed his primary weapon again. John took the moment to comfort the civilians, who had been tied up and secured along the walls. Not a single pokémon was out and about; the likely case was that the terrorists had demanded that everyone return them to their balls, lest the innocents get shot. But it hardly mattered now.

"Be ready for the evacuation teams," John said. "Listen to what they say and you'll all get outta this damn place."

"Ask one of the marine squads to remain at the location, just to be safe. Not taking any chances," Wesley said.

"Any of you all mind sticking around?" asked Alex.

"Already got that taken care of," said the leader of the small group of marines. "Our orders are to raid the Silph Lab next. Y'all tagging along, or are ya gonna do your own thing?"

"We're with you guys," John replied.

"Alright then. Let's roll out." Once Samuel had rejoined the group, the Twenty-Fifth squad and the team of marines ran out into the main street, where the CIC had already begun pushing further into the heart of the city. Fortunately what remained of the aerial battle was being waged at a much more comfortable distance than before.

"What's the situation lookin' like?" Thomas asked.

"They seem to have concentrated most of their forces up north and west," Wesley answered. "They're putting up a hell of a fight, too - we've been unable to break through so far."

"Do we need to head over there?" asked Alex.

"No - you all are needed right there. They can have the city for all we care. The biggest concern is getting all these civilians to safety."

"Then let's go take that building," said John.

It wasn't long before they found themselves cautiously scoping out the facility of interest, which was only a block and a half away from the pokémon center. Fortunately they had faced no resistance on the way there, but it would still be foolish to let their guard down. The entrance had already been blown open when they got there.

"Looks like they forced their way in pretty violently," Alex said as he stepped over the fragments of the large, metal gate.

"Stay alert. They must've used some pretty powerful weaponry to pull a stunt like that." They went inside of the front building, seeing it spread out into three large, adjacent rooms from there. Brass casings lined the floor, and among them was the body of a single scientist with a large, gaping hole through his skull.

"This is already looking great," Kevin said.

"Probably a scare tactic," John murmured. "Way too many bullets. I'm guessing they did it to make a point."

"I say we split into three groups and spread out. There's how many of you all?" John said, referring to the marines.

"Fourteen now," answered one of the squad leaders.

"Alright, that'll work. Three groups, each one taking a different route." The Reapers decided to take the left section, which was the storage room according to the sign above. Opening the door revealed the room to be both dark and long, lined with several tall shelves that were used to store equipment of every sort. The Reapers quickly turned on their thermal vision, which would easily reveal any living thing within the darkness. But so far, nothing. Two doors were positioned on the opposite side of the room, with one leading back towards the right and the other continuing into another area. They decided to pick the latter of the two, as the door to their right would end up putting them on course with one of the marine groups.

Alex experimentally twisted the knob, opening the door slowly. An empty computer lab was stretched out before them, with all of the systems still on. Lab reports littered the ground among the overturned chairs. By the looks of things, work here had ended rather abruptly. "They gotta be here somewhere…" Thomas said.

"We'll just have to keep looking. Doubt that they took all those people somewhere else." As they headed for the next door, Samuel stopped in his tracks, causing the others to look at him in confusion. He simply motioned to the desk near the corner of the room - one that they had overlooked as they walked in. Through the small gap of space between the floor and the workstation was a glowing red figure. Or at least, that's how it showed up to them. Silently they approached the desk and circled it, with Kevin pointing his rifle towards the figure as he slowly edged his way closer.

A wicked jolt of electricity narrowly missed his head, blasting a bulletin board off the back wall. "Holy fuck!" Kevin said over the comm, fortunately for them. Everyone's gun was immediately pointed towards the source of the attack. "Get out here - slowly," he ordered quietly, this time so the individual could hear it. A light shuffle, and the pokémon crawled out on its hands and knees, trembling under the gazes of the soldiers.

"The hell is an ampharos doing here?" asked Michael.

"Probably hiding from the thugs," John stated. As if to answer his question, they noticed a bullet wound in the creature's left thigh, with a slight yet steady stream of blood trailing down his short leg. He tried in vain to stop the bleeding with one of his paws. The Reapers lowered their weapons at the sight of the weak creature.

"Do you know where they went?" asked Alex. He feebly nodded, pointing towards the back of the building.

"That's a good lead," John said over the comm so that the ampharos couldn't hear him, "but what are we gonna do about _him_?"

"I don't know, tell him to go back under there I guess," Wesley said.

"Alright," John said, before speaking to the electric-type. "You just get back to hiding. Well have 'em cleared in just a few." The ampharos nodded, then crawled back under the desk.

"Well now we know were the enemies are," said Kevin.

"Yep. Makes sense, too - they set up shop in the back. Easier to guard; only the front and rear entrances to watch," the Commander said. "Proceed with caution - no doubt they're ready for action."

It was when they were in the chemical storage room when they heard the explosion, followed by gunshots. _Well shit, there goes any chance of a surprise attack._ The six of them rushed over towards the source of the fight, finding the marines taking cover on either side of the mostly destroyed wall. The dismembered bodies of several of their comrades were scattered about.

"The hell was that?!" Michael yelled over the sound of all the fire.

"I don't know!" yelled one of the marine privates. "Looked like a SMAW to me!"

"What direction?!"

"Two o'clock from the doorway!" he yelled back. Michael put his finger on the trigger of the M203, then readied himself for when the fire died down some. Alex already caught onto what he was planning to do.

"Michael, you can't be serious!" he exclaimed.

"I'm completely serious!"

"You're gonna get shot, dumbass! Wait it out!" _Glad to see you've got faith in me…_ The second the enemies let up, Michael sprinted towards the other side of the room, then dove as he crossed the opening, launching the projectile in the general direction of the presumed threat. All he could see over the split second was a small group of the insurgents behind an overturned steel table. His own explosion sounded as he fell within safe territory, quickly scrambling to his feet.

"Fuck!" yelled one of the insurgents. "Go fucking pick it up!" _Must've hit something of importance,_ Michael thought.

"Where the hell is your grenadier?!" John asked the marine team leader.

"Right there!" he yelled, pointing to one of the dead bodies. "Other one stayed back at the center!" John motioned for the marine to come closer, to which he obliged. "We need to see if we can grab those frags on his belt," John said in a much quieter tone.

"Good luck with that," Michael said as he loaded his last 40mm grenade into the M203.

"I can lay down some cover fire, but I'm just about out," Thomas offered.

"How many rounds?"

"About fifty," replied Thomas.

"That'll be enough time," John said. "It'll have to be." Thomas placed his finger on the trigger, crouching near the opening.

"Ready when you are!"

"Now!" Thomas pointed his Negev through the doorway, spraying the LMG waist-level within the room. John barely entered inside, grabbing the leg of the dead grenadier and yanking him back towards the others. Both his arms and his head had been blown off messily, but what they needed still remained - the three frag grenades on his belt. Thomas pulled his spent weapon back a split second before a series of bullets took its place.

"Fuck that was close!" he said, tossing the emptied ammo-belts to the side, then slinging his weapon over his back. "You're welcome, by the way!" John rolled his eyes as he went about collecting the explosives from the grenadier's body.

"What did it look like in there?!" asked one of the marines.

"No more than ten of 'em - and they all flipped tables for cover. No civilians in sight." _Well then where did they take them?_ No matter; as long as innocents weren't in the line of fire, then they could do as they saw fit… like toss several hand grenades in each direction.

"Now what?" asked another soldier.

"Now," said John as he pulled the pins, "they can watch each other get blown apart." He quickly threw all three of them in rapid succession into the large room, causing them to yell as they dove for cover. Glass shattered as shrapnel was sent everywhere as a result of the stream of explosions, and immediately, the Reapers ran inside. All of the enemies were in various locations on the ground, either severely wounded or trying to balance themselves throughout the ringing of their ears. One of the better-off guys was crawling towards an M4, which Thomas picked up.

"Where are the civilians?" he asked. But it was all in vain; the terrorist likely couldn't hear a thing now. A few shots sounded as the other Reapers ensured that there weren't any prisoners to take.

"Ah, here we are," Michael said as he bent over to pick up the SMAW. "Seems like this was what they used to knock on the door." There was a duffel bag near it with two remaining rockets inside. "Too bad the thing's a total pain in the ass to carry around though…"

"Over here," Samuel said from the corner of the room. A table had been placed in front of a lone door in a manner that prevented the handle from being moved. He set his rifle down and began to pull it backwards, clearing a path for the door. Opening it revealed a server room, with nearly thirty scientists and engineers lined up against the walls with their hands over their ears. "There we are."

"Great work," Wesley said. "All of them except for the one up front seem to be fine. Let the marines take over from there - I've already gotten in contact with Commander Wagner, and he's told them to guard the place. Other civilians are going to be escorted here temporarily."

"As per orders from Wagner, it looks like you guys are staying here," John said. "This place is about to get a hell of a lot more people."

"Will do," answered one of the marines. "Alright boys, let's get these people untied!"

With their objective here completed, the Reapers left the way they came, sending the wounded ampharos towards the back with the others while they made their way out. The CIC had advanced into the heart of the city, but they had been stopped in their tracks by a new wave of enemies from the west. They were firing back at the halted convoys with everything they had, and it had forced everything to a standstill.

"What's the game plan now?" asked Kevin. "Just sit here and get hammered like that?"

"As if - we're getting air support there as fast as we can. In the meantime, Thomas - you go back inside and get that SMAW. Use it to take out their barricades!" Wesley said.

"Alright!" While he ran back inside, the others became a part of the firefight, with Michael working his way closer to the front of the line for a better shot with the M203. He eventually stopped behind a wrecked ATV. The smoke had settled; everyone inside was already dead. Michael quickly peeked over the hood, then launched a grenade towards a concentrated group of enemies. In his peripheral, he could see their bodies being tossed in each direction as he unloaded the rest of his clip towards others, before being forced to get back behind cover as he took out his USP-45. _Fuck, I shouldn't have come up this far,_ he thought. He had far too little ammo to pull off a successful stunt like that. But if he had to make a run for it, he could always retreat the way he had come, or go between the buildings.

For what seemed like hours, but in reality was only a few minutes, more enemies continued to come, and there was a significant enough number of them to put to rest any hopes of further advancement. Even when Thomas had blown through the incoming foes with the SMAW, they were only replaced by more. "Fuck's sake, how many of these guys _are_ there?" asked Kevin. Despite their conditioning, the Reapers were starting to show signs of exhaustion. This fight had been significantly longer and more intense than any other they had previously experienced.

"Boys, you're gonna have to retreat for now!" Wesley said.

"Bullshit!" yelled Thomas. "We're not backing down from these fuckers!"

"Use your head! You're all getting low on ammo, and they're about to run you down! Pull back, get more supplies, and we'll hit 'em from a different angle! But this shit is not working!" Reluctantly, Thomas quieted down, knowing that the Commander was right.

"Okay. Let's pull back," John said. Michael sprinted from behind the ATV, back towards the rest of the group. In the sky, a quiet bomber could be seen swiftly approaching their direction.

"Thank Arceus that air support came in," Michael said as he fired a couple rounds towards the advancing enemies.

"What are you talking about?" the Commander said.

"Isn't that ours?" he asked, looking towards the sleek, black aircraft.

"No, what is—holy shit, get outta there!" The dreaded B2 had unleashed its payload before swooping back into the air, leaving the CIC oblivious to its presence. Michael and the others were powerless to stop it - unable to evade the stream of Mark 82 precision-guided bombs. Nothing within their helmets could shield them from the sound that they heard.

Michael didn't know what happened, but he found himself on his back, looking up at the collapsing city through his blurry vision. His ears had been overtaken by a shrill ring, and every part of his body ached. He could count it as lucky that he wasn't consumed in the explosion, but that was where his luck had ended. The unmistakable feeling of metal throughout his body; the shredded suit and growing blood spots. He needed to get out of there. Mustering all of his strength, Michael rolled over, panting as he noticed a key detail. _F…fuck… my pistol…_ Looking for the next best thing, he reached around his belt and gripped his 686. Seven shots to get out of this.

Craters lined the road; vehicles tossed aside as though they had been made of cardboard. In the distance, the other Reapers were similarly trying to regain their senses. The ringing started to subside, and heavy gunfire could be heard approaching his location. "Move Michael!" Wesley shouted. An insurgent entered Michael's line of sight, but it would be foolish to fire a shot at him - not when he needed to be slipping away. As quietly as he could, he edged closer to the alleyway.

"There!" one of the enemies shouted. Michael swiftly turned and shot him in the head, only for two others to follow up behind him. One in the neck, the other in the chest. But he had to move before he wasn't so lucky. Finally finding the strength to get to his feet, Michael stumbled into the alley, only to come face-to-face with an enemy with enough size to rival Thomas. He quickly pulled his revolver up, but his hand was caught by the insurgent, followed by a powerful punch to his gut. Michael sharply exhaled as the wind was knocked out of him, and the revolver fell to the ground. With his other hand, he made an effort for the dagger, but the enemy simply laughed and slugged him to the ground.

"No," he smirked, "we won't be having any of that." With the bladed still in its sheath, Michael was forced to faced an M249. Rather than shoot, though, the large enemy knelt down and slammed the butt of the weapon into Michael's mask, nearly knocking the consciousness out of the Reaper.

"Michael!" Wesley yelled as his vision began to fade. All of a sudden, things got significantly louder; Michael's mask had been ripped off. The voice of the Commander trailed away, as the true, unmasked noise of gunfire permeated the atmosphere.

"Son of a bitch," the enemy muttered. "Everyone! You're not gonna believe this!" he shouted to the other insurgents. "I just caught Grim!"

Michael tried to fight back - to move, reach for the gun - do something. But his exhaustion and injuries had made him less than a match for his captor, and the lights went out as a fist was slammed into the side of his head.

 **. . . . .**

He opened his eyes, and through the haze of it all, he watched as the city burned. Skyscrapers had been toppled, and the terrorists swarmed the streets. In the far distance was the new battlefront; they had been pushed back and had lost every bit of ground they had gained. Michael tried to move, but found his hands and feet to be tied. Towards the front end of the transport vehicle was a medic; at his feet was the combat dagger, with no sign of the revolver anywhere. Three other insurgents were inside the vehicle; there was no way out of this one. Noticing the now-conscious Reaper, he began to approach Michael with his bag in hand, causing him to stir in discomfort as he tried to think of a way out of the situation. Nothing came to mind.

"Easy now - if we wanted you dead, we'd have let Bruce cave your skull in. You should consider yourself lucky to even be alive right now."

"What are you planning to do with me?" He tried to mask the fear in his voice.

"The boss has heard of your capture. He was pleasantly surprised - here we'd managed to snag one of his greatest enemies. No, you won't die…not _yet_ , at least. Douglas has ordered that you be sent to him." He fumbled around in his bag for something - a small scalpel. His heart started pounding, but he was unable to struggle. Fortunately, the enemy merely sliced through the inside of his kevlar sleeve, revealing his bloodied arm. He then retrieved a small case from within the bag, and upon opening it, revealed a syringe.

"What is that?" Michael asked.

"Something for the ride." He inserted the needle into Michael's vein, then ejected the fluid inside. It wasn't long before he found himself slipping once again.

"Sleep tight asshole," one of the enemy combatants said. It was the last thing he heard before everything faded.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **And now there's that. Tell me what you think of the chapter in the review section! Until next time!**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N:**

 **Hey guys, here's the next chapter. Want to quickly address something that's pretty serious with it. Obviously if you've been following things along until now, you are aware that the villains are alt-right terrorists. That said, if something is in my story, that does not mean that it is representative of my views. I'd think that would be obvious, but I've had complaints in the past. So just to make this clear: remember who the villain is. He's not representative of my views. That is all.**

 **Thank you once again to Orthros for proof reading this chapter. It's really a huge help and ensures that the more inferior work does not make it through.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"Most people, when directly confronted by evidence that they are wrong, do not change their point of view or course of action but justify it even more tenaciously. Even irrefutable evidence is rarely enough to pierce the mental armor of self-justification."  
-Carol Tavris**

* * *

 **Ch. 27 - Captivity**

He gradually woke, his consciousness returning to him peacefully. No nightmares this time; he had had a more restful sleep than he could ever remember, and certainly better than anything he'd experienced lately. The bed was comfortable and soft, and Michael wanted to drift back off. But he had no idea what time it was, and for all he knew, the others could need him. Seemed like even the girls were up; he couldn't feel anyone next to him. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes.

 _What the… where the hell am I?_ Suddenly the memories of the previous battle flooded back into his mind, and he immediately jumped to his feet. The room around him had been constructed from smooth concrete blocks, nearly the size of their room back at the CIC headquarters. No windows were present, and a sink and toilet were in the back corner opposite to that of the bed. A thick, steel door with a single slot in the middle was the only way out of the room. The only furniture aside from the bed was a small table near the foot of it, along with a single chair. It was clear that he was in a containment cell of some sort, albeit a nicer one than any enemy would ever expect.

He had to find a way out of this place… wherever this place was. _Shit… how long was I out for?_ He casually examined himself, noticing that all he wore was a hospital gown and a set of boxers. His right arm, chest, and back had been wrapped in bandages, with gauze pads here and there. _As if that was necessary…_ But that lead him to another concern - what would become of him if they discovered his regeneration? But then again, that might be the least of his concerns right now. For the time being, finding out where he was and how he could get the hell out of there was a more pressing matter.

Michael sat on the edge of the bed for what felt like hours, contemplating the situation. How had the rest of the battle gone? Were the others okay? What about the girls? Everyone back at base must be worried sick. Not that he wasn't, of course. He prayed that everyone had made it out of there unharmed. But towards the end, things had really taken a turn for the worst - the possibility of everyone escaping that situation without injury was slim. And the girls… surely whoever delivered the news to them was to be pitied.

And yet, there was even more to be concerned about. With everything he knew, Michael was now a prime target for information. He dreaded the idea of having to deal with torture, and when they found out about his condition, they would be sure to go all out. Of course, he'd been trained to resist such techniques… but everyone had their breaking point. And with all the things he had done as a Reaper - from all those men killed to the very taking of his own father's life - Douglas would likely want him to suffer.

It didn't take long before he heard voices outside. He got on his feet as they came closer, the anticipation of what he would see on the other side of that door starting to get to him. A click sounded from within the lock, and then it opened. An officer of the militants walked inside, holding a set of clothes and being followed by two guards. Each carried a Galil - ready to fire at the slightest sign of uncooperative behavior on his part.

"Get dressed. The boss wants to have a word with you," said the officer. _Great…_ He took the clothes from the man - simply a white T-shirt and a pair of jeans - and put them on as they watched. "Come on." The officer walked through the door, followed by Michael and then the two guards walked behind them. _Only a couple feet away… If we turn around a corner, I might be able to snatch one of their rifles…_ But every single turn they took, enemies were coming and going, armed to the teeth. He wouldn't make it long before meeting his end. But even if things managed to work in his favor in terms of an escape, he still had no idea where he even was.

Michael took the time along their walk to glance around, trying to find some sort of clue as to the base's location. Not a single window in sight, so that didn't help. Though by the looks of the things, this must have been a complex of buildings. No second floor as far as he could tell. Eventually they came to a large pair of steel doors. The officer took a card from his shirt pocket and snapped it to the side, causing them to slide open. Michael immediately started taking note of the surroundings. The sun was getting closer towards one side of the horizon; whether that was east or west he wasn't sure. There were other similar buildings, and off in the distance, a large steel-plated wall that surrounded the entire base. But he had no ability to determine their specific whereabouts. Not without seeing more.

"Move it," a guard said, jabbing him with the barrel of his rifle. They led him towards a much smaller warehouse, which was rectangular in shape. The inside of this one was very different from the previous building. It was seemingly a maze of offices, occupied almost completely by white-collar workers. They led him towards an elevator. Maybe if it was small enough inside, he would be able to fight back without as much concern of being shot. All he'd have to do is grab one of those Glocks… The doors opened, and one of the guards slung his rifle over his shoulder.

"Into the fucking corner! Turn around and you die!" It looked like this wouldn't be his opportunity… He placed his hands on the back of his head as he faced the edge of the elevator. Before long it began to descend. He would have to look at that horrid man - the person responsible for all this pain and suffering these past years. The single man responsible for Zeke's death. It stopped, and he was forcibly turned around.

"This way! Move it!" one of the two ordered. This floor was relatively empty; a long hallway stretched out before him with enemies stationed every twenty or so feet. Any attempt on his part would lead to death. A lone door lay at the other end. Douglas' office. The officer approached the door and knocked on it.

"Send him in," a voice came from inside. He opened it and motioned for Michael to walk inside. The office was spacious, and a long table was positioned in the middle of the room. Maps of dozens and dozens of regions outlined every part of the walls, including one of Kanto in the middle of the table. Douglas sat on the end furthest from the door. Altogether, he was nearly Michael's height - maybe an inch taller. His hair was still vibrant blonde, though his face looked more mature from the picture he had taken years ago.

A swift, hard blow was delivered to his stomach, and he fell to the ground quickly. He tried to catch his breath - it had felt like he'd been hit by a steel beam. That wasn't far from the truth. "Raptor! What the hell?! That's no way to treat a guest!" He glared up at the fully-armored figure, clutching his abdomen. His only response was a low growl. "I apologize for her impulsive actions," Douglas said. "Must still be upset about that little skirmish between the two of you. At least, that's my guess."

"You could say that," she snarled.

"Y-you… talk…" Michael gasped.

"Think you're the only one with fancy technology?" Douglas asked. "If you've got it, odds are I do too. But that's not important right now. Take a seat." Raptor turned around, making her way towards Douglas' side. Michael stumbled back onto his feet, then hobbled over to the specified chair. "You can leave us," he said to the guards. "He does something stupid, I've got him. That is, if Raptor doesn't decapitate him first." To prove his point, he took a certain revolver from within his jacket - Michael's.

"Understood, sir," replied one of the guards. The door shut behind them, leaving the three alone within the office. Michael silently stared at the two across from him. Douglas seemed devoid of any sense of displeasure, and certainly no signs of regret were present. If he could see the sceptile's face, she would likely mirror his expression.

"So," Douglas began, "how are you feeling? Heard that Vlad knocked on your ass back at Pewter. The medic had to take out a good bit of shit from your body - something like thirty pieces of shrapnel. All of it surface level though, so you should be fine. Although you surely must be sore after all that shit."

"I'm fine."

"Well that's good. Wouldn't want you to be in too much discomfort here," Douglas said with a grin.

"What do you want with me?" Michael asked.

"Ah, now that seems to be the question, doesn't it? What do you think?"

"Don't know, don't care. Whatever you want to know, I'll never tell," Michael replied. Douglas merely laughed.

"Information? Well, I could definitely use some, that's for sure. But we'd be wasting our time on a Reaper. You guys don't talk. No, information isn't what I'm after - not yet. But I would like a little cooperation."

"Like hell."

"You're not even going to hear my offer?"

"I don't need to you sick son of a bitch," Michael said. "Why the hell would I even consider any sort of agreement with you?"

"Why did you form an alliance with the CIC?" Douglas countered. "Half of them were once allied with my very own forces. And to be led by someone of Giovanni's reputation - a crime lord of that proportions. Why did you hear him out?" Michael remained silent for a moment, having to formulate a response.

"Because he has sought to undo a lot his past mistakes. But you… you just don't seem to care. I can see it right on your smug face - you don't give a shit. Not for the lives you've taken, not for the people you've sold. Nothing."

"Well that's a skewed perception," Douglas said. "But I don't blame you. After all, you've only seen one side of the coin. You only know what you've been told by society. You have no idea what truly goes on over here, on our side of things. But lucky for you, I'm going to show you." He stood up and paced casually to the middle of the table, stopping in front of the spread out map of Kanto. Michael hadn't paid much attention to it before, but now he could recognize the red flags placed along the western portion of the map. They were heavily concentrated around Pewter, stretching towards Celadon and right outside Viridian. "I'm sure you're willing to listen, too," he went on. "You're a smart guy - misguided, but smart. And I'd consider anyone willing to ally themselves with Giovanni open-minded."

"Right… and I'm going to consider a terrorist's ideals why?"

"Because quite frankly, you don't have much of a choice. Not with the position you're in, after all. Look at this shit," Douglas said, extending his hand to the map. "Within the very month, our forces will have advanced to the Capitol. You country couldn't stop us, and neither will Kanto. Soon we'll be stepping over the very ruins of the CIC, then Kanto's government. You have friends there, right? I'm sure they'd love to receive a visit from us. And do you seriously think that they could hold out for long? After what happened in Johto?" He had a point as much as Michael hated to admit it. If he could topple their main base, then the CIC headquarters wouldn't be much of a problem. "But I'll make you a deal - I'll hold off on the CIC if you can manage to sit down, shut up, and take a few notes. How does that sound?" He looked at the leader of the insurgents, knowing that such an advance on his part would inevitably lead to his loved ones being within danger once again.

"Fine. Now what do you want?" Douglas nodded, then proceeded.

"Excellent. Now where to start… Hmm, I guess I'd like to ask you a question just to kick things off. What is it that you think I'm doing here?" That one was easy enough.

"You think that you're saving society by eliminating members of the left, one way or another. It's a pretty fucked up concept no matter how you try to word it," Michael said. "Not to mention a painting a fantastic image of conservatives across the world."

"Well that's sort of in the ballpark. But you don't know any specific numbers, right? Do you know how many people have actually been affected by our operations? Not grieving friends or families, mind you, but _actual_ victims?"

"No."

"Sixty-five thousand - all liberal voters or members of left-leaning families. That's it. Among all of the regions, only a minuscule part of the population has actually been targeted. Of course, we've dealt with much larger numbers of pokémon - I'll admit to that - but it still pales in comparison to the amount of people that I _could_ be targeting."

"Then why didn't you?" Michael asked.

"Because there is no need to. Think about it - why vote for a certain candidate when your family could be at risk? What truly caring father would cast his ballot, knowing that his daughter could be whored out and killed?"

"You're out of your mind…"

"Let me ask you this - do you think I enjoy this at all? Do you think I get some sick sense of satisfaction from it?" Douglas asked, looking at him calmly.

"I wouldn't be surprised."

"Well that's simply not true. But it is what needs to be done before we lose ourselves to degeneracy. The left would love nothing more than to sink society into absolute lunacy. But now… now I've given them something to fear. Now they have to actually think twice before voting. For _once_ in their miserable lives do they have to actually consider the consequences of their actions. And you know what? It has worked beautifully. Do you follow politics closely?" Michael shook his head.

"I live in a conservative country, one that will always be conservative. I don't have to."

"Well you should. It's good to keep up with how things are going. But since you haven't, I'll fill you in. Ever since we've started these little operations, there has been a sharp decrease in the amount of ballots cast for left-wing politicians. For the first time in years, districts that were solidly blue are now up for grabs. In Kanto and even Unova. We are witnessing an ideological revolution before us with the retreat of the left. Future generations will be spared at the expense of a few people here and now. I don't think you need to be a mathematician to know that that's a pretty damn good trade-off."

"It's not your place to make that call," Michael countered. "Think that you can just play god with all this? Just pick who lives and dies like that?"

"They don't seem to have much of an issue with it," Douglas said. "Hell, there were nearly a million abortions this past year in my home region alone. Those murderous women sure as hell got to pick who lived and died. Back when we got fed up with their shit, those politicians got to slaughter all opposition as they saw fit. They get to play god. How come it's such a bad thing when I do it too?" Michael shook his head.

"It's wrong all the way around. They were wrong to do that then, just as much as you are now."

"At least you've got some ideological consistency going on," Douglas said. "True, it's an unfortunate case. But there's no changing what has happened - what they have done. All there is to do is to give them a taste of their own medicine. Let them suffer the consequences of this ideological war that they started." Of course, there wasn't going to be any sort of reasoning with someone like this - he was too far gone for that. "It simply is what it is. When the right tries that whole 'be the better man' tactic, they end up backing down. Letting the liberals walk all over them, ruining society and the economy in the process. And we've had it with that bullshit. As a result of everything we do now, the world will one day revert to it's traditional values - its honor and its decency. Two things the left knows very little about."

"No. What you've done has only hurt conservatism," Michael replied. "They are going to forever more relate _all_ conservatives to your sick group. Ethan was right about one thing - they do toss around insults towards anyone that they don't agree with. Or at least, a lot of the ones that I've met have. And now you just handed them the ammunition to do it on a whole new level. Congratulations." The militant leader rolled his eyes, then nodded towards Raptor.

"Alright, that about sums things up for tonight. I thought maybe we could get somewhere, but I doubt we'll make any more progress today. Escort him back to his cell. We'll try again in the morning." The sceptile made her way towards the Reaper, who got to his feet.

"Move," was the only word that came out of her mouth. He did as he was told. There was nothing else he could do.

 **. . . . .**

He was sent back to his confined room, fortunately in one piece. It wasn't long after he had arrived until another person came in - the same medic from Pewter. As before, guards came in after, one of whom was holding a tray of food. Even though he was hungry, not having eaten in who knew how long, he considered whether or not he should eat the food. It wouldn't surprise him to find out that it had been laced with cyanide, after all. The tray was set on the table, with Michael looking curiously at it. A sandwich of some sort. The medic must have caught on to the Reaper's question.

"Again, if we wanted you dead, you wouldn't be here now. It's fine." Of course, there wasn't any denying that. He was completely at their mercy. "Now, before you eat, I'm going to need to examine your wounds. You're going to need a change of bandages as well." _Perfect, now they're gonna find out…_ Michael removed his shirt, revealing the white bandages over his toned body. While the medic went about unwrapping them, he couldn't help but wonder what would become of him. Not just once they found out about his healing, but also in general. Not one positive scenario came into mind.

"What the hell?" the medic murmured. "This doesn't make any sense… I saw your wounds with my own eyes - pulled the shrapnel out of you myself… But there's nothing here…" Perhaps it was best for him to stay silent about the whole thing. Maybe play it off as if he didn't know. _What am I thinking? Of course anyone would know about possessing such an ability._ "Well I'm clearly just wasting my time here. However the hell you managed to heal that quickly is beyond me. I'll need to consult with my colleagues about it in the morning."

After he had concluded his unexpectedly quick procedure, the medic left Michael to himself. Luckily he had not inquired about the ability too much, even though his fascination with it had been more than apparent. But had Michael gone medical, he would likely marvel at such a finding too. The only question is what would happen as a result of this knowledge. It was highly unlikely that anyone would be able to derive the healing factor from Michael or from anyone else that had it - it was now a part of their very genome. But it was still something that he preferred they didn't know about, and now they did.

Figuring that there was nothing he could do for the time being, he went about eating. They had been sure to give him food that didn't require utensils - even plastic ones at that. Unfortunately there was nothing around that he could use to make a shank. But that wouldn't stop him. He would likely die here anyways if he didn't break free, so he needed to try. He had to escape - one way or another.

 **. . . . .**

"Rise and shine!" a voice yelled from within the room. Michael quickly regained consciousness, looking over to see Douglas standing in the doorway. _Ah… what the fuck?_ "No sleeping in today! We got shit to do son!" He sat up in the bed in clear annoyance. That better not be his method of waking every single morning. But just as he had the day before, he would have to roll with it. At least for now.

Douglas gave him a few minutes to get ready before they headed out of the cell. This time he was led outside, with only Douglas and Raptor to keep him in check. _Like I'd ever stand a chance against her…_ He had no suit, no weapons - nothing. Before he could try to yank the revolver away from Douglas, she would likely cleave him in half. And despite the situation, he did hope to keep his life throughout it all.

He was taken to a massive, outwardly-dilapidated building, to which they stopped in front of the large garage-like entrance. He'd seen several of these in his short time in the military - nearly every one of their bases had them. It was an aircraft storage building, and he had a pretty good guess as to what was inside. Douglas nodded towards the guard nearest to the card reader, who swiped his card, causing for the large mechanism to come to life. Slowly the door was lifted, revealing the impressive aircraft within.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Douglas asked. "Took me years to be able to buy enough parts in secret, but here she is." The large, triangular stealth bomber was an intimidating sight to anyone, and how he had come to actually acquire enough parts, as well as experienced enough engineers, was beyond the Reaper. "I had thought that you would come looking for anyone that owned one," he continued, "so I had my guys conceal some additional cameras throughout every known base within Kanto that had B2s. That's how I knew that you all were snooping around that PMC complex. Funny thing is that you can trace every single damn one in the country and you still won't be led to this one. We built this completely underground. No serial numbers, no methods of tracking it - nothing."

"What do you have to gain from telling me this?" Michael asked.

"I'm showing you how we do things - how we remain so secretive and avoid detection. That's going to be an important trait for you, especially for what I have in mind for you. And if I don't receive any cooperation, then it's not like you'll be taking this information away from this base anyways."

"I'm not going to help you murder innocent people for some distorted sense of the greater good," Michael said.

"Stop jumping to conclusions. You don't know what the hell I even want."

"Well then what _is_ it that you want?"

"All in due time. Now let's go."

Once they had left that area, they headed back towards his office. Douglas called breakfast in for the three of them as they took the same spots on the table they had the night before. "So," Douglas said as he finished his meal, "I liked that little trick that you all pulled with Groudon. Nice touch. Definitely made Viridian a pain in the ass."

"What are you talking about?" Michael asked.

"You know, that Groudon you took from the Power Plant."

"And what about him?"

"You seriously don't know? Gotta admit, it was pretty badass, throwing him into the city in all that armor. The asshole even flipped a tank or two."

"Well that's the first I heard of it."

"Yeah. And we almost finished the job with that batch, too. Should have concentrated more effort in ending him. Won't be a mistake I make again though," Douglas said with a shrug. "Live and learn."

"What do you mean with that batch?"

"Oh, so you thought those legends were the only ones? Those five you broke out?" Douglas replied. "Nah, we've been at that one awhile. The legends are just like any other pokémon, even though they would have you believe that they're special in some sort of way. No, evolution favored them, but apart from superior strength and their rarity, they have no special qualities. But yet they are still a threat. Their status grants them a lot of respect among the average population, and if they decided to unite entire countries against us…"

"Wake up. The entire world is united against you. The legends weren't necessary for that."

"Really? Because last time I checked, I just got endorsed by one of the most powerful senators in Kanto. He's _one_ of hundreds of politicians in the world. People are sick and tired of being walked over - of their economies being absolutely destroyed by this liberal disease. They're willing to revolt, and they're willing to take back their lands for the right people… and yet, a lot of the very people I need are still caught up in their religious stupidity. If legends told them that this cause was immoral, they would." He looked over at Raptor and shook his head. "And it's funny too. I used to be all over that stupid bullshit. But eventually everyone needs to grow the fuck up." He looked back at Michael with a rather empty glare. "If any of that shit were real, we wouldn't have to do this. I doubt that any sort of a just deity would allow leftists to go about doing what they do."

"That explains the lack of morals I guess," Michael commented.

"Eh, you'll get over it. Morals aren't based off of some so-called deity. They're innate; they're inside of _us_. They don't come from some falsified god. Everyone has morals of _some_ sort - of course, some people have pretty shitty morals. Unfortunately those are the very same people that are trying to take over now. It's about time someone leveled the field a little bit."

"None of what you just said makes any sense," Michael stated. "What's even the point of social conservatism without religion? Conservatives seek to implement traditional values - values based on religious principles."

"That's a good observation. Again, a majority of the far-right is religious, and I will need their support. They can chase their fantasies all they want. I don't care. All that matters is that the people who deserve to be in control of society are actually in positions of power," Douglas replied.

"And what makes someone worthy then?"

"It's very simple, really. Just be someone that contributes - someone that would follow one of the most basic principles out there. Treat others the same way you want to be treated." Michael actually had to stifle a laugh upon hearing that.

"Right. You seem pretty good at following that one yourself." Douglas actually seemed to find humor in that statement, surprisingly to him.

"Yeah, seems like it. I mentioned this yesterday. Do you think I enjoy this? That I like what I do? I mean, maybe some of those girls may have chosen a different path. Maybe they would have rejected the foolish ways of their parents. But odds are they wouldn't, and the truth of the matter is that we need capital to win this fight. It's a fucking shame - the whole lot of it. That's why I invest in as many legitimate businesses as I can, so that one day I'll be able to leave this whole thing behind. I don't want to sell other people, or get wrapped up in the drug market. But for the time being I don't have a choice - we need the money so that we can continue to buy off the enemy." He looked down at the table, staying silent for a moment. His tone changed as he continued. "And one day, the very people I helped put in power will come after me for what I have done. For all of us. I've accepted it from the very beginning. It's my destiny to fall to that which I helped build."

"And you're willing to die over this lunacy?"

"It's what needs to be done so that every country on the planet doesn't get involved with radical leftism. The world will be a far better place when we don't have to worry about the monsters within our own regions. When they are out of the picture, the world will prosper once again under a system of honor. Yes, I'm willing to die for that vision."

 **. . . . .**

It was some time late at night. He'd already eaten and was sitting on the edge of his bed, contemplating the current situation. From what he could tell, there was no means of escape - the walls were too tall and the facility was too heavily guarded. But even that was not as daunting as what he had just seen hours before.

Douglas really, truly felt that this was the best course for humanity. He had fully convinced himself that what he was doing was a necessary evil, and he was even willing to face persecution for his actions. _What kind of a madman is this?_ He kept asking himself. The only answer he could arrive at was that Stone was mentally unstable, and that wasn't much of a shocker. But to be able to tell yourself that ideological genocide was what was best for society… that was terrifying to imagine.

The door began to open, and he was wondering who would be coming into his cell at this time of night. He received his answer when it swung open violently. _Oh Arceus… what does she want…_ "Get out," she told the two guards. Neither of them said a word as they listened to her order. Michael got to his feet, not liking where this was heading.

"Hello again," she said with a hiss. "I heard something rather interesting this afternoon. You've been keeping secrets."

"What do you want?" Rather than answer him right away, she began doing the unexpected - she started to remove her armor piece by piece. Definitely a sceptile. One of the key features he noticed was that all of the floral-like features that were common of her species had been trimmed down or outright removed, likely to allow her to fit within the armor. Eventually she took off her helmet, revealing a cold set of eyes.

"As long as I don't kill you, you should be fine by morning."

"W…what?"

"You don't have some fucking latias or guns to protect you now, do you? Look at you - nothing without any of it." He started to back up slowly. "Humans - you all are so weak without your toys. Without others. You're about to find out just how weak." Without another word, she lunged toward him. There was nothing he could do to fight her off.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N:**

 **I want to clarify this once again. The views of the characters in this story are not necessarily my own.**

 **Thank you once again to Orthros for proof reading this chapter. It's really a huge help and ensures that the more inferior work does not make it through.  
**

 **If you like this story, please consider checking out my Explorers of Sky fic, _Into Darkness_. **

**"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"When you dance with the devil, the devil doesn't change. The devil changes you.** **"**

 **-Amanda Hocking**

* * *

 **Ch. 28 - The Arrangement**

Michael slowly picked himself off the ground the following morning, feeling pain lance throughout his entire body. Sometime during the attack he had lost consciousness, and yet not a single scratch actually remained on his body. The only way someone would even know that something of the sort had happened last night was by the blood spread across the room. He was sore all over with nothing to show for it.

Once again he was reminded of the sheer strength that pokémon possessed. While he was strong enough to give Layla a real fight, there was a massive difference between a four foot tall lucario with sweet intentions and a sceptile that was his height - one that likely wished had the permission to kill him. Michael eventually managed to stand up, albeit gradually, and walked over towards the sink. He went about washing the dried-up blood off of his face. If he was able to bust out of here, then he might even try to go out of his way to kill her. That is, if he could even manage such a task. After last night, he wasn't so confident.

Breakfast was eventually delivered to the room, but nothing else - no call to escort him anywhere. Not that he was complaining about that of course. He sat down and began to eat, thinking of how everyone must be back at base. He had taken careful note of Stone's forces on the map of Kanto, and just as the insurgent had said, it would only be a matter of time. The terrorists had been pushed out of Viridian, which made passage into Johto more difficult, but they'd taken Pewter - the closer of the two cities to the CIC headquarters and Johto's Army's… or what was left of that, anyways. Currently the whole base was undergoing reconstruction, so no soldiers were stationed there, making an attack at that location unlikely.

And what of the girls? Since there were currently only insurgents occupying Pewter, there was absolutely no closure as to what had happened to him. Of course in the lack of this closure, it was easy to assume the worst. Everyone probably had already. How he wished that he could send some sort of message to tell them he was okay. At least, for the time being. He wished that he hadn't been so distant from them these past few days, and that he'd been softer and more respectful towards them. He hadn't meant to be so tense around them, or around anyone else for that matter, but the memories of Zeke were still fresh in his mind. And now it was probably going to be a mistake that he would never get to undo.

Michael hadn't been given any method to tell time, but it had to be at least an hour after that before the door was opened. Looked like it was time to go once again. He didn't know how much longer they would go at this little game - him being led around like this and shown the facility, or having to listen to Stone's ramblings about greater goods and whatnot. Whatever the terrorist leader wanted with Michael, it couldn't be good. And sooner or later he would find out.

Today he was led somewhere else; rather than take him to Douglas' office, they met with the man outside. In front of them were hundreds of enemies out and about, doing drills and the like. One unit in particular was doing a pushup routine in which they would hold a certain position until the instructor said to continue. Michael personally remembered that one when he was in training. Douglas gave him a slight nod, acknowledging his presence before looking back towards the men. "Thank you. You may leave us now," he said to the guards. They did as they were told, and Michael was once again alone with his two least favorite people in the world. "Tell me," he started, "when you look at these people, what do you see?"

Michael sighed inwardly. "Why ask a question you already know the answer to? They're terrorists, just like you."

"Maybe. Not the answer I was going for, though - we'll try to rephrase that. What do you think _I_ see in them?" Michael glanced towards the militants for a moment, watching as the determined enemies proved their stamina and their endurance. Many of them had tattoos - some of them were covered in them. All of them looked like rough people, which wasn't exactly surprising.

"A bunch of thugs. Maybe they had nothing else going for them and resorted to a life of crime. Some of society's lowest." Douglas smiled, then motioned for him to follow as he headed back to one of the main buildings.

"Now you're getting somewhere. Actually… you are a hundred percent right." Hearing those words actually came across as surprising to Michael. But before he could give it any major thought, Douglas continued speaking. "See, there are two major groups of people that work for me. I like to call them the grunts and the thinkers. Don't let any of them hear me say that, though," he said with a chuckle. "Anyways, as you can tell, there is a lot of work that we have to do. I've set up shop in most of the regions, and these jobs require a lot of people. People are the most important resource, you see. I can have all the guns in the world - all the money - but without people, nothing will get done. I simply can't do it all myself. No one can. And with the military, the police, homeland security - all of them on my back - I am in constant need of people.

"But again, there are two types of people here. You have generally run into the grunts. See, I can bust a man outta prison, or pay that crack-addict's or that car jacker's bail far easier than I can convince formerly law-abiding citizens to start working with me. And really, the types of jobs that each group gets truly reflects their value within this whole mission. Those grunts you see out there? I doubt most of them will make it two years. Not gonna shed any tears over some worthless prison rats. They absorb the bullets so that the thinkers don't have to; they sell the drugs, the weapons, the people - they get caught or killed, and they either go back to the shithole that I dug them out of, or they get put in the ground where they belong. Either way, it's all fine by me. We got what we needed out of them."

"So then the thinkers are the ones that run things," Michael said.

"Yes, the thinkers are the ones who truly understand why we do what we do - the ones that help me call the shots. They actually give a fuck about what we're doing here; they're not here to just make some cash like those grunts. And most of them aren't exactly the fighting type anyways. Don't get me wrong, some of them are - take Vlad for example. He was with me from the very beginning. Fled Hoenn with me and taught me how to fight well. But the vast majority are the white-collar workers in there - the scientists, the engineers, the economists and all sorts of strategists. That'd be a damn waste to have guys like that getting shot at. No, I need them on the ideological and logistical fronts." Of course, that made sense - that was merely the concept of specialization. Stone certainly hadn't been the first to utilize that idea.

"So then Ethan was one of those." At the mention of Michael's father's name, Douglas's expression visibly dropped.

"Yeah, and a damn good one too. But aside from that, he was a true friend and a true patriot. He knew what needed to be done and was never afraid to do it. Whether business was going smoothly or not, Ethan always had my back and never gave up on our goal. Just like me, he knew that all this would one day have a net positive effect on the world. That never stopped the nightmares from coming - never washes away the guilt - but it was always something we could look forward to together, the day when people like us would never have to do stuff like this again. The day when the hard-working man would be free from the degeneracy of the left." He looked at Michael for a moment and shook his head. "Funny, he always talked about how proud he was of you. Sometimes he'd call just to talk about how well you were doing in school and whatnot. And then you go and you put a bullet in him."

"He pulled a gun on me…"

"After you threatened to take him in. That shows you what kind of a man he truly was. As much as he loved you, Ethan chose to side with what he believed in, even in the very face of death. Even when it was you who delivered it to him. Always was like that - even knew that it might come to something like that one day. Shit, you have no idea how terrified he was when you joined the military. He had absolutely convinced himself that you'd wind up dead in some mission against us. Turns out he was worrying about the wrong person's life.

"I'm not gonna lie to you - that shit still pisses me off. He and I built all of this, and now he'll never get to see our goal carried out to completion. And yet… despite what you've done, I'm willing to give you the opportunity to make that shit up." Michael silently pondered those words as they continued walking.

Douglas had eventually led him to their destination - the cafeteria of the facility. There was relatively little activity in the massive room, likely due to the current time. A large digital clock was positioned over the main doorway, showing the time to be nearing eleven. "We're gonna go ahead and grab lunch now. I don't ever like being in here when stuff really starts up," Douglas said. The three of them went through the empty buffet line, then picked a table near the corner of the room. Michael ate slowly, hoping that the meal would be mostly in silence. Of course, it was anything but.

"I have to say, though, I'm sure that the realization was hard for you."

"What?"

"Finding out that your father worked with me. All this time, you had signed up to kill traffickers and the like. I'm sure that you never would have imagined it would lead you back to your own house. No, I can't truly be mad at you for the matter - you didn't know what it was that we were doing here. All you knew was that he dealt with some nasty people, and it was your mission to put an end to stuff like that. It was never part of the mission to think for yourself - it never is. Doesn't matter how smart you are; it's the people above that are responsible for the actions of the soldiers.

"But now it's time for you to really start thinking for yourself. I know you've got it in you, too - never met a dumbass that was the valedictorian of their university. Yeah, your father always loved to brag on that one," he said with a laugh. "I want you to ask yourself this: which side truly has the best in mind for society? I can completely agree with you that traffickers and drug dealers need to be eliminated - they have no problem absolutely destroying other people for their own benefit.'

"Well that seems a tad bit hypocritical…"

"Yeah, but you know my reasons. It's a necessary evil, and one that will never again be needed after we finish our mission. No, we'll make damn well sure that it doesn't happen again. I imagine someone's gonna think twice about cooking up drugs to sell on the street, especially when the crime for that is a bullet to the head. Not one person will be willing to sell another's head when they could risk having their own removed. Once we gain control of real militaries and PMCs, then that will be it. We're first going to be purging our own ranks. For all those that dealt in the drug markets, there will be _one_ chance to leave that shit behind for good. Of course, the guys that actually did any trafficking better start running. They are the enemy and will be hunted down as such.

"So as you can see, the members of my group that are actually worth a shit really do have the best interests of society in mind, regardless of what it might look like for the time being. This is all just a means to an end. I mean, is it better for us to have to engage in a little bit of nasty business now and be able to ultimately wipe out similar activity for the rest of time, or should we sit by and allow for the degenerates of society to run it into the ground? Wouldn't you say it's better to plan for the long term? The net positive is not something you can ignore - not when these markets get shut down completely. By selling one person now, my organization will prevent a hundred from being sold in the future. You can't deny that such a trade-off is worth it."

"It's not your call to make decisions like that," Michael countered.

"Ah, so we're playing this game again," Douglas said. "Look, we can both pretend for a second that people are naturally good and that they won't do shit like this to each other, but we'd just be deceiving ourselves. The majority of these countries I'm dealing in are either stupid or immoral. But we're changing the entire atmosphere." He stood up, getting ready to take up his empty tray. "They need to be led away from the future that the left has in mind, and we're going to do just that."

 **. . . . .**

Days passed in a relatively similar manner - Douglas would either stop by or have Michael delivered to him, to which he'd lead the Reaper around for the day, trying to convince him of his ideals or showing him how exactly his organization operated. Michael was getting more than a little tired of the whole thing. Over a week had passed and they'd kept at the same useless game. Stone was still trying to make some sort of an appeal to Michael without even letting him in on what exactly it was that he wanted from him.

Truth be told, Douglas was incredibly hard to really understand. He was so sure of his mission, so wrapped up in what it was that he was trying to accomplish, that he had blinded himself to what he was actually doing. He truly felt that this was best, and knew that eventually it would lead to his own downfall. But yet that didn't seem to have an effect on him whatsoever.

That wasn't what scared Michael the most though. The more he looked around, the harder a potential escape was looking. There seemed to be no way out of the facility other than through the main entrance, which had more than a few men guarding it. The Reaper didn't want to accept the fact that he would likely never see his loved ones again - not while Douglas was still here and in control. The only thing Michael could do was either bide his time, accept his fate, or… _No,_ he thought, _why the hell would I even think something like that?_ But… it wouldn't exactly hurt to ask, would it? Of course he wouldn't cooperate with such a man, but there was no harm in trying to find out exactly what Stone wanted him to do.

He thought it over for a day or two, and eventually arrived at the conclusion that he might as well ask. One morning - a Sunday if Michael was keeping track of the days correctly - Douglas personally came into his room, leaving the door slightly open behind him. He had bags under his eyes, and was obviously tired from his slower pace. Raptor stood beside him, watching over him carefully to make sure he was okay.

"'Morning," Douglas said with a yawn. "I apologize for my appearance today. Last night was a long one. Your asshole country decided to blockade the waterways around Kanto, so I had to try and figure out something. Now I gotta deal with that and all those troops near the capitol…"

"Huh, sad."

"Yeah… But it's all good. Minor change of plans, that's all. All I gotta do is nuke the city and I'll still topple the region." Michael shook his head, making sure he heard that correctly.

"Wait… you have nukes?" Douglas nodded.

"A few of them, but enough to get the job done. That shit was hard to build, too. You have no idea the kind of resources went into getting those." He looked over at Raptor and smiled. "But soon it will pay off. You don't have anything to worry about - the CIC is not a worthwhile target for a forty-one megaton hydrogen bomb. They'll certainly hear the noise though," he said with a laugh.

"Arceus… you've lost your mind… you're going to start a global war…"

"Wrong. It will be another year or so before I have enough maneuverability to pull it off. I've got politicians in high places in all countries - ready to be done with this bullshit. Once we strike it will be lights out for Kanto's government, and then it's time to _really_ get to work. This isn't about just that region - never was. We're purging the disease from this whole planet. And by giving them something to fear - a leveled city or two will do - I'll be sparing dozens of other regions from the same fate. With higher-ups in their government backing me, and with an arsenal like what I've got, how many of them do you think will be willing to fight me? I guarantee you the cowardly left won't raise a finger to stop me - they're all too much of pussies for that kind of shit."

"But the right will, and you know it," Michael answered him.

"Yeah, that's a concern of mine, and it's something we're facing now. Hell, that's why you're here in the first place. The right wing generally does have a sense of justice about stuff like this. But… there are so few members of the true right wing. Sinnoh and Johto are my concerns for the time being, but of course I'll need to focus on the other regions as well.

"No, I think they will realize this revolution before us, and even be willing to participate in this fight. I'm almost to the point where I don't have to sell people or pokémon any more, after all. And the groups that I had that did such a thing? Almost none of them are traceable to me. You've caught some higher ups, tortured them, and gotten some pretty fake-ass confessions most of the time. Of course, Razor decided to be a prick and sell out your father. But most of the information you've been fed has only contributed to you and your friends killing off people that I would probably have had killed anyways. You all may know, but other than that, the trafficking market for the most part is untraceable to me. It could be anyone for all the left knows. All that matters is that the right wing will see the revolution unraveling before them. I think I'll get more support than you know from them - even from your own friends, perhaps. People are sick and tired of being treated like shit by the radical left. It's time to return the favor." Michael only hoped that somehow, Douglas could be finished off before any of that could happen.

"How do I factor into any of this?" Michael asked after a moment of silence.

"You're not gonna like to hear this, but it's the truth. I am looking right now at a mirror image of Ethan. You are his son, and you sound _exactly_ like him. He wasn't so sure about our objective to begin with either, but he came on board and he got shit done. The man was passionate about his ideals and didn't stand down for shit - that's what I've seen in you so far. Hell, you were even willing to kill your own father over your ideals. And he was willing to do the same thing to you. The two of you have far more in common than you could ever begin to realize. I think he would be proud."

"No," Michael answered, "my father died with hatred for me. All his feelings for me switched off the moment I told him _one_ thing he didn't like."

"Well that's news to me. Of course, I wasn't there, so I wouldn't know. But whatever you said to him, I'm sure the anger must have been conditional. You did, after all, end up ruining his chance of seeing the mission get carried out."

"How sad. Couldn't witness his dream of ideological genocide within all the regions."

"But you are your father's son. I think that you will be able to have some of the appeal to target groups as he did. I guarantee that you won't be able to manage money worth a shit - not like he did. I'm going to need someone else for that. But if I can get a renowned war hero to start appealing to Johto's right wing… and one group in particular is just itching for a fight."

"You don't mean…"

"Oh yes. They would help me. After all, they're willing to lynch and kill these very same people," Douglas replied. "I know they'd have it in them to come on board. And that would make this whole fight a done deal - if the Assembly was causing trouble within Johto's boundaries. See all this time I've never really conducted a lot of business in your home region. There's been no need to. But I'm concerned that Johto and Sinnoh, being as close as they are, might be able to stop this operation. I'm holding them back for now, but it's consuming more resources than you could imagine. If Johto was occupied within its own boundaries, though, I doubt that they'd be as willing to interfere in foreign affairs…"

"So you want me to try and sink my country into a civil war so that you can take over a region?"

"Several regions, but yes. And don't think for one second that Johto is gonna take a serious hit. Your country is nothing like this population of cowards that we're subduing - Johto is truly a land of strength and of perseverance. They will rebuild whatever damages occur, and I will most certainly be pitching in." Michael simply looked at him, and despite the situation, actually managed to smile.

"Ah, well good luck with that. Even if I wanted to cooperate with you, they'd just as soon kill me too."

"That's interesting," Douglas said. "So I take it you've been screwing pokémon?" He hated to hear it put that way… "Didn't expect such a thing, but hell, to each their own. I don't personally give a shit about that matter in particular. Anyways, here's a thought - why the hell would they have to know? You wouldn't need to tell them shit about your personal life, especially if it was something like that. All that matters is that a war hero could kick off their militaristic spirit, and before long they'll be ready to join the cause."

"They'd find out, and they'd pull that same shit that they've been doing to all those others. They'd try to kill me and my pokémon. Not a chance in hell I'd go near them. But they seem like a good fit for what your people do - targeting and murdering innocent people, all while labeling it as the greater good."

"Well let's actually make this relatable," Douglas said. "Do you support the death penalty for murderers?"

"Yeah, without a doubt. The punishment fits the crime. Take a life and yours should be taken."

"Great. I'm glad you feel that way. Now what do you think about abortion?"

"I think that it's murder, and that—." Michael stopped speaking, knowing that he'd just backed himself into a corner. _Son of a bitch…_

"Do I even need to continue?" Douglas asked. "This is what we do. We make them reap what they sow. And don't think for one second that I'm willing to let the Assembly by with what they are doing. All will pay the price for their actions. But the left has managed to convince people that they shouldn't have to deal with consequences - they shouldn't have to be responsible, mature adults. A bunch of self entitled children is all they are. Well if that's how they want to act, then someone has to man up and be the parent." He slowly got to his feet, apparently content enough with the course of the conversation to end it. Raptor silently joined him by the door. "I'll give you some time to think it all over. Can't expect anyone to make a decision of that scale on such a short notice."

Pretty soon, Michael was left alone in his cell, with only his thoughts to accompany him. He hadn't been expecting anything like that - to have to actually put his own views under inspection due to the words of a terrorist. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that there was ideological inconsistency in what he believed. Though his methods were abominable, maybe not all of Douglas' ideals were incorrect…

 _What the hell is wrong with me,_ Michael thought in annoyance. _I can't seriously be letting some mentally deranged murderer get to me…_ Now he knew that there was no chance in hell that he'd decide to go along with Stone's plan, but he couldn't deny that this insane person had somehow managed to make Michael reevaluate his own views. _I need to sleep on it,_ he eventually concluded. Not like he'd been left with anything else to do here anyways…

 **. . . . .**

For hours upon hours, nobody came by, with the exceptions of the guards that dropped off his meals. The Reaper sat down, eating while he thought about how his girls were doing back at the base. Everyone probably assumed he was dead by now. Alaina was even unlikely able to establish any sort of communication with him like she had back when he'd first met her - for all he knew, this base could be located on the opposite side of the world. And legendary or not, she still had her limitations.

Cutting the meat was rather difficult with the plastic cutlery he had been given, They'd given him a t-bone steak of all entrees, to which he had eventually just resorted to eating it without the use of utensils. But as he had finished the meal, he had come to realize something. Left on the plastic plate was now a bone. They had been careful not to give him any sort of metal, but they hadn't thought this one through. Michael picked it up and ran his fingers along the edge, finding the tip to be easily sharp enough to do what he needed. He went over to the sink and began to wash off the remnants of meat before closing a fist around it. The long part extended three inches from between his middle and ring finger. _Alright… This will do._ But if he wanted to make it out alive, he would have to gather some information first - mainly their location. Not to mention he would have to pull everything off just perfectly. Even then it was highly unlikely that things would go in his favor, but he would be damned if he wouldn't try.

Footsteps could be heard approaching the door, among them being the familiar scraping of metal: an armored tail being dragged across the floor. Michael quickly ran over to his bed and hid the bone under the pillow, only to make it with a few seconds to spare. Raptor flung the door open and entered. "You again…"

"Yes, me again," she said slamming the door behind her. It wasn't long before she started to remove her armor just as she had a week prior. As much as he wanted to stick his makeshift shank into her neck, he would still have to deal with the guards outside, and approaching them from a distance with nothing but a sharp bone would be suicidal. Best to wait for when he would be right beside one or two of them.

"Why do you even wear that around here?" Michael asked as she slipped off her wrist piece.

"I'm here to put you in your place, not answer your questions."

"It just seems stupid, wearing a heavy set of armor like that only to have to take it off here. But then again, if you were even remotely smart, then you wouldn't be on his side." She actually managed a low laugh.

"Just for that, I'm going to stay here twice as long." Finally she managed to remove the last piece of her suit - the helmet. "Douglas isn't expecting me back for awhile anyways. I got the time to kill." She slammed the helmet down onto the table before starting towards him. Michael had learned from their last fight that he was stronger than her - and that made sense. He had probably sixty or seventy pounds over her. But her speed was something he couldn't keep up with at all, and it was generally enough to knock him down within a few minutes. But he refused to not at least fight back.

She leaped towards him and struck him in the face before he could react. Michael's world went blank for a moment as he tried to pick himself off of the floor before he would suffer another blow like that. Raptor wasted no time, delivering a swift kick to his stomach and causing him to clutch his abdomen in pain. "Shit, did you get weaker since our last fight?" she taunted. "You're almost taking the fun out of this. Almost."

At this rate, he was going to go out quicker than he had last time - if he couldn't find a way to slow her down, then he'd be out within another minute or so. But if he could find some way to hinder her speed… He managed to get back onto his feet, quickly ducking under another head-level strike before running towards his bed. Michael had almost made it before the sceptile had swung her tail around and swept his legs. "How in the hell are you a Reaper? Is _this_ all that humans are capable of?" He grabbed the bedpost and picked himself up.

"I'll show you something bitch," he muttered. As expected, she charged him once again, but this time he had planned for it. The Reaper quickly grabbed the bedsheets and flung them towards her, causing them to open up mid-air as he followed it up with a harsh strike to where her face was. The second she stumbled back he swung the fabric around her backside and back around again, effectively entangling her within as he took her to the ground. She squirmed around wildly as he punched her over and over again, intending to end her life with each strike.

A loud rip sounded as she shredded the sheets with her right hand. A quick slash upward, and he immediately gripped the left side of his face. Three deep claw marks going up from his cheek and to his forehead, his eye barely being between two of them. Not a second had passed before she kicked him off and violently ripped the sheets off of herself. She was bleeding from a mouth twisted with feral hatred. The beast closed the distance between the two of them and punched him with all of her might. Michael's ear began ringing as he tried to get off of his back. But not this time.

Raptor sunk her claws into his shoulders, pinning him to the ground. "I'm going to make you fucking pay for that," she growled as she yanked out her claws. He was powerless to stop her as she pounded him repeatedly. But in her carnal rage, one slash had gone too far - something she had not accounted for. Her heavy breathing came to a halt as her eyes went wide. Michael instinctively clutched his bleeding throat. "Oh fuck… Oh fuck…" He didn't know how deep this was, nor how far it had gone to the side. If it had hit either the jugular or the carotid, then he wouldn't be waking up this time. As his consciousness began to fade away, he could see the sceptile quickly grabbing her things and pounding on the door, sprinting out as soon as it opened.

 _Shit_ , he thought as everything went black.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Let me know in the review section what you all thought about this chapter.**


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N:**

 **Thank you once again to Orthros for proof reading this chapter. It's really a huge help and ensures that the more inferior work does not make it through.  
**

 **If you like this story, please consider checking out my Explorers of Sky fic, _Into Darkness_.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"The opportunity to secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own hands, but the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself."**

 **-Sun Tzu**

* * *

 **Ch. 29 - Raptor**

"Look, we're getting closer, aren't we? Pewter has been solidified as ours for the time being, and the possibility of securing Viridian will be present within another week or so. Things are at a stand-still right now towards the border, and the city's been evacuated, but with the way they're pushing towards Celadon to try and cut us off from the capitol, I seriously doubt they'll be focusing on Viridian. The only thing is I'll need to make a choice between those two cities: do I take the easy win, or do I hold off on that and make sure they don't get the upper hand in a territory that I will need to take over later? Or maybe a bit of both; could have some of my personnel ambush convoys in their attempt to head towards Celadon. I'm expecting that one to be a longer fight anyways - it's way larger than both the other two cities combined. I don't know yet. Looks like I'll need to speak with my strategists about this one."

Douglas had been speaking about his plan for action for over half an hour now, and honestly it was getting to be more than a little tiresome. "I mean, you should at least be showing some sign of appreciation," the insurgent leader said in response to Michael's silence. "I'm holding off on the CIC for awhile. But you've barely said a thing this whole time."

"My throat is sore," Michael said quietly. Raptor had managed to push his regenerative abilities to their very limits, as evident by the guards rushing in and finding him drenched in his own blood. Immediately a medic was called, but by the time he had arrived, the bleeding had slowed as the deep gash in his neck had begun to heal. It had missed his carotid artery by a fraction of an inch.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Douglas apologized. "I would have thought that she would have been able to exercise _some_ sort of self control. But it seems like that's too much to ask for, isn't it Raptor?" She simply looked away silently. "Hell, I'd have been more than a bit pissed if you had gone and fucked up everything we're trying to create here."

"It will not happen again," she replied weakly.

"Oh you're damn right it won't happen again. You should have never been in his room in the first place. Now given what we're trying to accomplish with him, what the hell kind of an impression do you think that you're setting when you sneak around into his cell and attack him like some sort of wild beast?" His harsh tone made her recoil slightly in shame. "Anyways, I apologize again for that. To say she has a slight grudge against you given your previous encounters would be an understatement. She could hardly walk for months after that injury she took to her leg. We don't have TMA specialists like you all - that's still a very sought after field of medical expertise, and one that I haven't been able to acquire yet. She had to wait it out the old fashioned way."

"Ah. Not gonna lie, I kinda enjoyed sticking my dagger into her - especially after she tried to kill my friend." Through her helmet, he could feel the resentful gaze directed towards him.

"Yeah, I'm sure you did," Douglas laughed. "But you need to get this through your head: we didn't strike first. Had your country just minded its own damn business and stayed out of everything, then we wouldn't be at war with you."

"Yep, we should just stand by idly while you go around and get the country hooked on drugs or while you sell people. Sounds like a plan for a country that prides itself in its moral principles."

"Again, we can sit here and debate those moral principles all day long. But you cannot deny that the eradication of the left would lead to a better, more moral society," Douglas said.

"But at what cost? Your very souls? Must you step over the corpses of tens of thousands to get what you want? There has to be another way - and you know it," Michael said in annoyance.

"There _is_ no other way. You cannot reason with the radical left. They are the pinnacle of entitlement and sheer stupidity. Their very creed is that of ignorance, and if it isn't exactly their way, then it's no way at all."

"But you seem to think that everyone that isn't some radical right winger is automatically in that group, and that you have to murder them…"

"They may not be," Stone admitted, "but they still put the radical ones into positions of power. And don't act like you don't know what even a little liberalism will inevitably lead to. It just starts the ball rolling - each new politician seeks to be farther left than the last, labeling the previous as a bigot in some way shape or form. We can't let even the moderates get through."

"But at the expense of killing them? Of selling people into slavery?"

"I fucking told you this already - we needed the money, and we needed to scare them. The days of that are almost over."

"They never should have started," Michael replied.

"In an ideal world without the left, they never would have," Douglas stated. "They started this, not me. I'm just ending it." He stood up and walked over to his desk, simply standing there for a moment before withdrawing a small brown book from a drawer within it. He tossed it over to Michael. "Take a good long look at that." The Reaper opened it, and on the very first page the names started, each with dates and locations beside them. _Rachel Warner… Emily Ingram… Meghan Rowe…_ And he skimmed through the pages, finding all but a few in the back to be filled.

"So this is the list of all of them, then…"

"That is the list of every single girl that has been sold, yes. And you know what?" Douglas said. "It fucking horrifies me. I did it, yeah, but I have to live with each and every one of those names - all of them having their lives ruined because of what we did. But yet if we didn't do what we did, then countless more would be ruined at the hands of the left. I had to do it… but I never wanted to. And no amount of drowning myself in alcohol has ever been able to help with that. I get to live with that for the time being, and one day I will be killed because of it. That's my punishment for all this. But I care enough about the world - and even about Hoenn - to man up and do what needs to be done for the good of all mankind." Throughout his time here at base, Michael had never witnessed such emotional words from Stone. But no one could deny the tears streaming from his face. This was all real, and to him, it was the only way.

Maybe he deemed himself a martyr, or a hero of sorts. Truth be told, granted his mental instability and the terrorist's rationalized selflessness of his own actions, Michael didn't know _what_ category he fit into any more. But regardless of what Douglas thought, his upcoming actions would undoubtedly lead to the deaths of millions. That couldn't happen.

"We can't keep going on like this," Douglas finally said. "The world can't. People aren't meant to live this way, and people don't need to be doing the stuff that I do. There will never be a need for this kind of activity again once we get everything straight. And then I'll get to rest. But for now, we have to stop them."

"There has to be another way… This just can't be it…" Michael said.

"Oh how I wish there were. But there isn't, and that should be obvious by now. You know how they are - you were educated in a country full of those types. There is no compromise, no reasoning. They are not going to budge, so this is what we must do."

"No," Michael said, shaking his head, "this is what _you_ think you must do. But this isn't what needs to be done. Look at you right now - you don't even _want_ to do this, but you've truly convinced yourself that there's no other way. You've blinded yourself to all the ways that you could have accomplished your goal without becoming what you are now. But your rage towards the radical left has clouded all of your judgement, and now you're just doing this as revenge against the political side that wronged all of you back in Hoenn. You've convinced yourself that this is about ideals… but really, deep down, I think that you are doing this to drag as many of them down with you as possible."

"I want them gone… yes. You have no idea what it's like for your country to turn its back on you. For your father to practically renounce you for beliefs that you developed independently of his influence. For horrid politicians to absolutely destroy everything good about society. For police to kick in a law abiding citizen's door, only to torture you for information and to imprison you for having a separate set of ideals. This is what their 'social justice' seeks to accomplish. It must be destroyed, and the only way to do that is over their dead bodies. Not one of them can be left alive."

"No… I don't know what any of those things are like," Michael admitted. "…But if you are going to target people for their beliefs - even if they're a bunch of ignorant leftists - you are still doing that which you are against…"

"So by ending the people that discriminate against us, then I'm just as bad? By acting in self-defense, I'm somehow the aggressor?" Well he may have had a point there. "It's time for you to see them for what they really are. They will not change - they will not grow up. Hell, they won't even do anything on their own. All any of them are is just a fucking vote; a bunch of votes that force those who want something better - those that strive for greatness or for wealth or for personal growth - to provide for them. They steal from our pockets with their taxes, and they promote their bullshit ideals by force in the education system. Step out of line and they want to run you over. The only way to fix this - the only way to make any of it better - is to go to the root of the problem. We will tear this stupid system of democracy apart, and never again will the uneducated, selfish prick have a say in what all of the rest of us do. We will burn that shit down, and we will create a world worth living in."

 **. . . . .**

He would need to make a decision soon. Michael didn't know how much longer he had here until… well, until whatever happened, but he would have to attempt some sort of action relatively quickly. He could try to make an attempt at taking Stone's life, but that wasn't going to be a guaranteed success. And even if he did manage to kill him, then there were likely other similarly-minded idealists here that would just continue their mission. And the idea of taking out the entire base was idiotic.

So of course there was the option to try and escape without raising alarm, but that seemed equally as improbable. If he could manage to kill one of them in secret, hide the body, and slip into their uniform, then _maybe_ he could sneak out of the base. And if he could pull that off, then all he would need to do would be to make contact with the others, who would probably be able to trace the call, and order a strike on the island. _But that could take hours_ , he thought. From the time that he'd manage to fully get out of the base, look for civilization of some sort, and manage to make the call, surely someone would have discovered that the Reaper was missing, and the whole base would be on high alert. Douglas and the others would probably take that time to escape… There just wasn't any way out of this it would seem.

But one thing was for sure: he absolutely refused to have anything to do with the Assembly. Even if Douglas simply wanted to use them as a tool to stir things up within Johto, those were people that he refused to go near if he could help it. It would simply be leading both him and the girls straight into danger. Not to mention that he didn't particularly like the idea of helping instigate a war within the very country he had sworn to protect… No matter what he did, he just couldn't seem to win…

He dreaded the idea of what may become of all of this - Michael knew very well that his refusal to cooperate with Douglas could lead to his death. And regardless of what he did for a living, or the physical and mental toughness that came with their field, that scared him. The idea of never seeing any of the girls again was enough to make him tear up just thinking about it. He wanted to go home, but he couldn't morally agree to this man's conditions in exchange for that.

But despite this, the conversations continued to happen. Douglas wasn't giving up on him - he didn't particularly care for the Assembly personally, but he knew that there would be a significant advantage in getting them involved in this revolution. "We owe it to the world to get all of this done as quickly as possible," he often said. "Getting the Assembly to occupy Johto - or maybe even throw the region's ideals - will do just that." But despite his persistence and after being turned down time and time again, it was obvious that the terrorist's patience was wearing thin. It was on one particular morning - nearing Michael's second week on the base - when the conversation had taken a turn for the worst.

"See, this is exactly what is wrong with the right wing nowadays," Douglas said in a clearly irritated tone. "You've all got your principles that you value, morals that you support - and yet you will do absolutely _nothing_ to get that stuff passed. You won't go out into the streets, you won't try to engage in the cultural wars, and you just take whatever shit they throw at you through the media! You all will do _nothing_ to make the world a better place, all while hoping that everything somehow magically works itself out. As horrid as the leftists are, _they_ are willing to go out and cause some sort of commotion. That's why the world is shifting left as fast as it is - because the conservatives are just standing by and watching it happen! The only ones in your country willing to actually defend its ideals are the members of the Assembly!"

"We don't _need_ to do that kind of shit. My country will always remain right." Douglas seemed to find humor in those words.

"Yeah, sure. Let me tell you, they were saying that exact same shit less than a hundred years ago in Hoenn. And before long they'll be full-blown communist. Johto is only safe for now. If you value your country's morals, then you will do the _one_ thing that you can to make sure that it stays the way it is forevermore."

"I've already told you this," Michael stated. "I'm not going to have anything to do with the Assembly, or with you for that matter."

"Oh? And why is that? You think they'd even be able to lay a finger on you, provided they did find out? I would have enough guards around you to make your own president jealous," Douglas retorted.

"That's _one_ of the reasons - of course I wouldn't want to knowingly put any of us in danger. But I could never align myself with someone like you. I couldn't possibly look the girls in the eyes after doing something like that." It was then that Douglas had finally snapped.

"Well you know what?! Who gives a fuck what a bunch of pokémon think?" Michael fell silent upon hearing this, and it all started to make sense now.

"What in the fuck…" Michael murmured to himself, before looking Douglas in the eyes. "You can't seriously mean that…"

"Why the hell are you going to throw away the potential to save your very country - to actually be someone who did something worthwhile - over a few of their kind?" he asked.

"So then that's why you don't have any remorse over the pokémon you've sold into slavery," Michael said. "You don't even consider them to be people…"

"Oh give me a break," Douglas said. "You're almost sounding like one of those pissy liberals right now." That was interesting to hear - somehow every single matter had to involve politics. Somehow, it was always liberal or conservative - no in between or nothing apolitical with this guy. And something like this? This was just common decency. But Douglas now seemed to lack that. Above all this though, what was far more interesting was the fact that he had seemingly forgotten of the third person's presence in the room with them.

Raptor immediately headed for the door, catching Douglas' attention. "Come on, don't be like that," he said. She was already out the room before he finished his sentence. "Fucking great, now I'm gonna have to deal with that for who knows how long…"

"Well what did you expect - for her to just sit there and take it? To be called worthless like that?" Michael asked. "You asked me why I couldn't join you? It's shit like that right there."

"Alright, I think we're done here. The way things currently are, I have a feeling that you'll be useless to me. Guards!" The two that escorted Michael to the office showed up at the door. "Take him back." Michael stood up and headed their way. "You're getting one last chance," Douglas said. "I want you to seriously think about your decision. You think about what your country truly means to you and then you give me an answer. But if you're content with just sitting around and letting the enemy take it over, then you are against those of us who wish to restore sanity to this world. And I can do that with just fine over your dead body."

 **. . . . .**

Michael had been pondering the latest discussion for some time, but he simply couldn't understand. How could anyone look at a sentient being - one that can communicate with them and has the exact same mental and emotional capabilities - and say that their entire kind was beneath them? Ethan had seemingly shared the same concept too, so it sure as hell wasn't only Douglas. And this sort of backwards thinking had potential to make its way into society now. Many of Stone's higher-ups likely thought the same way, and if they accomplished their goal of taking over who knew how many regions, then they could put people in power that would also feel the same way. That could have disastrous effects on everything regarding pokémon…

Even as bad as the Assembly was - and even with their atrocious actions - they never denied the sentiency or the intelligence of pokémon. Hell, most of them even had pokémon with them throughout all of this. Douglas had actually managed to sink to a new low. _Fuck, if he was anything like this, I can see why his father wants little to do with him…_

And yet despite their feuds, part of Michael couldn't help but actually feel bad for Raptor. From the way things sounded, she and Douglas had always been there together - throughout everything. And to hear something like that from someone that she had likely deemed her closest companion… He couldn't even imagine what that must have felt like. Had the sceptile not been wearing her suit, Michael was almost certain that there would have been visible tears. As much of a monster as she was, she didn't even compare to Douglas.

 **. . . . .**

Nearly another week had passed, and he had not been let out of the cell once. The only time the door opened was to deliver food and other necessities. The sheer boredom was starting to get to Michael, and he found himself engaging in whatever opportunity he could to pass the time. But he could only sleep so much, and there wasn't anything to do here aside from thinking - which was likely Douglas' intention. But rather than consider once again the insurgent's proposition, his thoughts tended to drift back to those of everyone back at base, particularly the girls. He knew what could very well come soon, so the next time he would be brought in he would do his best to kill as many of them as possible.

He had memorized the route there, and decided that his best opportunity would be on the elevator. If he could manage to stab the guards, then he would be able to take their weapons and take the few stationed in the hallway by surprise. Then he would make the attempt to kill Douglas and Raptor. Even if someone took his place and continued the mission - which was the likely scenario - he would have made them suffer a massive hit with the death of their leader. Michael didn't know when it would all occur, but he was prepared for it, and he kept the bone shank hidden but within reach at all times.

Every time that door opened, he wondered if he would be called there one final time - if it was time for him to put his own plan into motion. Michael hated the very idea of doing this; the thought of dying wasn't really appealing to anyone. But it was going to happen, so he might as well take Douglas down with him. That fucking door though, it was really making him anxious… When it finally opened, though, everything changed.

Michael had just finished dinner, and it seemed that sleep wouldn't be coming anytime soon for him. As he stared up at the ceiling, which he had memorized seemingly every facet of, he heard someone coming. Given the fact that they had already delivered his meal, this time it was likely time to go. His heart started beating quickly as he stood up and slipped the bone discreetly into the side of his pants. How he wished that he could see the girls one final time. But he would die here, and no one would likely know what became of him. It fucking sucked. The door was opened, and Raptor walked in. But this time, she wasn't wearing her armor.

"Sit down," she said simply. "I'm not here to fight. Not this time." Something had changed; her usual animosity was gone, and the sceptile's tone was filled with sorrow. He probably had a guess as to why. "I just want to talk. At least, with someone who thinks of my kind as people…" She took a seat at the desk, with her tail wrapped around and sitting in her lap.

"Yes, you are a person. But you are also a monster - what you have done in the name of the greater good." Rather than becoming hostile with him, she just remained silent, before finally looking up and making eye contact with him.

"I'm not going to argue against that at this point," she sighed. "I believed in him - he has valid points. And he was once a loving trainer… _they_ took him from me. He wasn't always like this - not at all. But those horrible people took him in when he was only eighteen years of age and tortured him. He never really came back…"

"I didn't notice anything like this when I was in Hoenn…"

"Well then you were very fortunate. He got taken in for simply believing that what the government was doing was unjust, and that there should be a change. They couldn't accept anyone having different views, and they turned him into something else."

"Why should I believe any of this? I'm not about to start sympathizing for him," Michael said.

"I'm not asking you to sympathize for him," she replied, "I just want you to understand… how it went wrong… That is, if you'll listen…"

"I'll listen, but I'm not promising you anything."

"It's not like you've got anything better to do."

"Fair point." This was the most interaction he'd had with anyone in some time now. "Go ahead."

"He chose me as his starter when he was thirteen. I never saw a single gym battle. We fought whenever a trainer came by, and I got really good at it too, but he never wanted to go through with the whole trainer thing. Douglas was content just having a friend while he grew up and went through his school years. The way that he was headed, he was going to be a doctor."

"That's a little ironic," Michael said. "To think that had everything gone well, he'd have actually helped save people…"

"He is brilliant - that had to have been his calling. I have no doubt that he would be world-renowned right now, had it all not gone south. And he knew that, too. It was when he had an internship over in Johto when everything changed. He wasn't really concerned with politics at first, but when he went there, he was fascinated with how their economy worked and with what they believed. People in Hoenn have their wages set according to the government. There is no free market. And all of a sudden, he goes to Johto and learns that the same work that in Hoenn will make him the same wages as some useless bureaucrat would make him a millionaire over in your country. People in Johto are actually paid according to what they bring to the table, not according to what the government sets by force. All of a sudden, he's exposed to moral principles that have been denounced in Hoenn as 'hateful' or 'discriminatory.' Truth is, it wasn't either of those things - ideals like those are just not what the politicians of Hoenn wanted to tolerate. Not one bit."

"Yeah, leftists in my experience tend to be like that," Michael said. "But that still doesn't justify—."

"For the love of Arceus, please just let me finish," Raptor said. Michael relented. "Needless to say, he took to it all very well. He was fascinated with the concepts of social morality and with economic freedom. The ideas of conservatism had been vilified for years in Hoenn, but when he had been able to travel outside of the border and learn otherwise, it became apparent that the politicians had used the education system to try and brainwash the youth.

"But he simply decided to bide his time. He needed the degree, and he was going to get it. What could one single person do about it anyways? Well keeping to himself still wasn't enough. Come to find out, they look through everyone's internet history. The concept of privacy has been dead there for years, but yet the left has managed to justify it for 'safety' reasons. To fight off those who they accuse for bullshit like 'hate speech' and 'bigotry.' Really those two terms mean anything that a leftist doesn't agree with. And Doug's trail was riddled with it. He only read news sources from your country, participated in several political chats with right wingers, and denounced everything about his country numerous times. And he was completely right to do that. But they couldn't accept that, and one day, they sent the police.

"I remember running outside and trying to stop them from taking him away. I got knocked out. Steven was at the league at the time - some trainer had managed to beat the Elite Four - and so he didn't know what had happened until it was too late. I didn't see him again for several days. Eventually they told us that he was in the hospital, and we both rushed to go get him. But when I saw him…" She looked down, shaking her head. "It wasn't the Douglas I knew - it was something else entirely. I haven't seen a single trace of emotion aside from rage in his eyes ever since then. And he never spoke to me the same way again… We used to hold conversations for hours, and he told me everything. He was my best friend, and he meant the world to me. But after that day, I became only his pokémon.

"They used a fire-type. They wanted information about his contacts. He had learned that there were others in the region that also wanted something better, something aside from what their leftist dictators forced upon them. He wouldn't give. They burned him badly, and staged it as some wild pokémon attack. The police said to him that if he ever told anyone what really happened, then they wouldn't hold back this time. He actually went and got himself tattooed just so he could hide it. But the damage was both physical and emotional. I think that's when he stopped caring for pokémon.

"I didn't know. He's been so distant all these years, and I was scared to ask. But hearing what I heard the other day… I think he holds a grudge against all of my kind over the actions of that one fire-type. It isn't fair… I did nothing aside from always being there for him! Even after the threats from the police, I participated in the revolution with him! When Hoenn went to hell, I went with him - it was me all that time! But he… none of that seems to matter…"

"Yeah, I can kinda see how that'd be upsetting to hear."

"He needed help after what happened back in Hoenn. What they did to him was _wrong._ I begged and pleaded, but he would never get therapy. They took him from me… so I decided to make them feel that very same pain. I went through with what he wanted to do. I never liked fighting Johto's forces, but you all kept getting in our way. We had to go through with all of it in order to make the left pay for what they had done to all those innocent people. To my trainer. Now I fear that the damage has been irreversible." Michael nodded.

"Given the fact that he's had tens of thousands of people sold, I would say that's a fair assumption to make," he said.

"But are the numbers not favorable?" she asked. "I hate the very idea as much as you do. That's someone's _life_ that has been permanently ruined. But it is better to trade the wellbeing of one person for that of hundreds. Don't you agree?" she asked.

"I know that what the left has done in these countries has made things harder for a lot of people," Michael admitted, "but it's not our place to make those decisions. We can't play god with people's lives. We don't get to choose who lives and dies like that." Raptor tilted her head.

"You seem to have no problem with it. You made the choice each time you pulled the trigger - you picked who died, even if you were just following orders. And you mentioned the other day that you supported the death penalty. What about that?" Admittedly, she had made some good points.

"I think… that those are different matters. We are punishing the people that have hurt others in those cases - people that really are detrimental to society. They earned what they got. But all those young girls that were snatched… what did they do to deserve any of that? They were innocent. We can't just make decisions of this magnitude based on what they could potentially do in the future, or who they could potentially vote for… And what about all those poached pokémon - taken from their homes like that and sold like property. How is that justified?"

"…It… it's not," she sighed. "Most of the people here… Douglas admits that a lot of them are idiots. Even some of his so-called 'thinkers.' He's just using them to put his vision into play. Most of them don't care for our kind at all - they'll just do whatever it takes to forward this mission. They think that we're somehow lower than them… and they treat us as such. As inferiors. And I thought… I thought that Douglas was different. He used to _be_ different. But now… I'm afraid that the Douglas I once knew is gone for good…"

"From the way things sound, he's _been_ gone. I think that _he_ thinks that this is about ideals, but really he is using his hatred towards the left to commit all of these horrible actions towards innocent people. If he wants to make these regions right wing again, why not just take out their governments? Why did teenage girls need to be targeted for that to happen? Why not just attempt another revolution in Hoenn? There are tons of ways he could have gone about doing this without killing and selling off innocent people… He shouldn't be holding them accountable for the actions of their politicians, even if they did help put those crooks into office. The average voter is just too stupid to understand…"

"Yeah, they do tend to get fooled easily… But a lot of them don't seem to really care how the policies they vote for will affect anyone else. The far left shows no concern for what their absurd taxes will do to small businesses, or anyone above the poverty line for that matter. They don't care at all," Raptor said. And Michael knew that to be true from his personal experience. Even trying to speak about lowering taxes back when he was in school was a sure way to start a huge debate, so he generally kept his opinions to himself.

"But all the same, we can't just group together everyone left of center and punish them all according to the stupid or selfish ideals of a few of them. It's not fair to them, just like Hoenn wasn't fair to Douglas or the other conservatives. We just can't be like that, especially if we're trying to act in the name of justice."

"Well then how would you have gone about it?" Raptor asked. Michael had to think that one over. Unfortunately though, he didn't really have a set answer for that.

"I'm… not so sure," he admitted. "I know what I believe, and I know that my viewpoints are morally right, but I don't know for sure how I would deal with issues like this - trying to set up a moral and just government in place of crooked ones. I feel like I might fuck that one up, so it'd be best left to someone who actually knows what they're doing. But if I had to make a choice… if I had to act in a situation like this… why not just take out their politicians? They're the evil ones here, not the people that have been targeted so far. I'm sure it would have problems of its own, but it'd be a hell of a lot better than ideological genocide…

"That's what he should have done, I think," Michael continued. "If he wanted to make Hoenn a right winged government again, then he could have just gathered his supporters and launched a revolution there. He could have taken out their government without targeting average citizens - without having to resort to fear tactics and trafficking. And if blood simply _had_ to be spilled, it would still have been kept to a minimum, and it wouldn't have involved the innocent."

"But we need money to even get to that point," Raptor said. "That's what the drugs and the trafficking were for…"

"You couldn't have just stuck with drugs?"

"A single girl could fetch up to half a million. It was wrong… but it made the money that he needed."

"Well you must not be aware of the sheer amount of drugs that we've seized over this past year then," Michael laughed. "We've torn bases up, only to find hundreds of millions in cocaine, crystal meth, heroin… everything that I could think of, and in higher quantities than I thought could fit into one country alone."

"This whole operation costs far more than you could imagine," Raptor replied. "I think last year's expenditures were over ninety billion total. He's got people in all kinds of high places on his payroll. The trafficking did help generate money, but… I often wonder if it was worth the price that we paid. What we did, and what we turned ourselves into…" She looked at him with sorrow in her eyes. "It's just too late now to go back… We've gone this far, and it's just too late."

"No… no it isn't," Michael said. "It's never too late. A man that I work with has done some horrible things in the past - all for the sake of money and power. Not for ideals or anything of that sort, but just for his own benefit. He did most of the same damn things that you all have. And you know what he's doing now? He's helping lead the fight against Stone. He came to regret the life that he had been living, and he made an effort to right his past wrongs. It wasn't too late for him. If someone like that can turn around, then I think that almost anyone can. It's never too late to start doing the right thing." She initially stayed silent, clearly pondering his words. Before long though, she stood up and slowly made her way towards the door.

"I'll be back soon. You've given me a lot to think about, and I would like to talk again before… well, you know…" That didn't sound good…

"Well as you can see, my schedule is pretty open…" She managed a lighthearted chuckle.

"Alright." She knocked on the door, and the guards opened it for her, allowing for the sceptile to leave the cell. Michael laid back on the bed once again, his mind being occupied with thoughts of the previous conversation. He didn't know if he trusted her to tell the truth, but then again, Raptor didn't really have anything to gain by deceiving him. Despite their near-death experiences in the past, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her and what she had to go through. To have gone through all that, only to be treated in such a way by not only someone that you trusted dearly, but also by everyone around you… He couldn't imagine what that must have felt like.

And as much as he hated to admit it, a small part of him really did feel sorry for Douglas. Aside from being unfairly persecuted by his country, he was proven to be mentally unstable, and perhaps not fully responsible for his train of thought, although he was responsible for his actions. He was doing all of this not for money, power, or fame, but only because he thought it was truly the best way to deal with the issues that an ever-growing liberal population had raised. But it was obvious that in his distorted state of mind, he was not suitable to live along with others. Not anymore. As Raptor had said, whoever Douglas once was, that person had been long gone. _This_ Douglas would lead to a global war if he succeeded. He needed to be killed before any of that could happen.

As smart as he may have claimed to be, Douglas surely didn't know what would actually happen if he managed to launch a nuclear weapon. And from the way it sounded, he had one of the most powerful types in his arsenal. A blast like that would vaporize millions if dropped on Saffron, not to mention get other countries ready to utilize their nuclear arsenals… No matter what Stone thought would happen, the very idea of him being able to launch only one nuke, and the rest of the regions be completely content with not only that, but also by the eradication of their very own forms of government, was not sound. Michael just hoped that they weren't as well built as Douglas had originally thought…

As he drifted off to sleep, he was recollecting thoughts of the conversation with Raptor. He didn't know what the hell to really think of her, to be honest. He would admit that there was more to her than he had originally thought. But that didn't mean that she was exactly good, either. She had still participated in a lot of the activity that this organization had dealt with. He wasn't sure what to expect from her at this point. One thing was for certain, though - if she hadn't been lying throughout their talk, then there still was a chance for her. Perhaps not for Douglas, but she still possessed the capacity to tell right from wrong.

There was still something there. Maybe she wasn't such a revenge-crazed individual after all, and maybe she wasn't all bad. But as things currently stood, she was still the enemy. And if she tried to interfere with him taking Stone's life, then he would put her down as well.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Two more chapters left until the end of Part One! They will be out pretty soon, too, so keep an eye out! If you enjoyed reading, please consider leaving a review, or checking out my other story, _Into Darkness._**


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N:**

 **Alright, so this is out like way faster than I usually update. This was a very easy chapter to write though, so that's probably why. I can't promise this kind of updating speed in the future, but in the meantime, here's the next chapter. Also, I'd like to thank you all for over 50,000 views to the story now!**

 **Thank you once again to Orthros for proof reading this chapter. It's really a huge help and ensures that the more inferior work does not make it through.  
**

 **If you like this story, please consider checking out my Explorers of Sky fic, _Into Darkness_.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"R** **edemption is not just about the survival of our soul. It's about the revival of a soul that was once dead."**

 **-Unknown**

* * *

 **Ch. 30 - A Way Out**

The following morning after breakfast had been delivered, Raptor showed up once again. Once again without her armor, and without the knowledge of anyone else. "I can't help but wonder," he finally asked, "what's got you interested in speaking to me? That day you slit my throat, you were the very picture of rage itself."

"You are the only person on this entire base that actually stood up for my kind. You actually gave a shit about the fact that a lot of us were targeted as well. I thought that Douglas was different, but apparently I was wrong. I wanted to at least speak to you some before Douglas killed you." He knew that that was likely what was in store for him, but hearing didn't exactly reassure him.

"Well I can't understand that mindset that somehow pokémon are inferior to humans. Aside from both being intelligent and sentient, it's the pokémon that make almost everything in our society a possibility. And I think that if this organization somehow has it in mind that the world will be accepting of policies that treat pokémon as lesser beings, then they've got something else in store completely."

"I would hope that they wouldn't pass any discriminatory policies," Raptor said.

"They seek to implement traditional values, correct?" he asked. She nodded. "Well then that means they want to turn the clock back and start creating laws based upon the way things were long ago. And generally that's great - I'd love it if the world wasn't as selfish and immoral as it was - but sometimes laws needed to be changed, and this was one of those times. Pokémon used to live like slaves to humans, and fortunately society shifted away from that sort of mindset. And now we've got a massive, powerful group of people that want to bring that kind of shit back into the modern day."

"I don't think they will be able to do it," Raptor said. "Like you said, people nowadays won't be willing to adjust their views like that."

"That's just it though," Michael countered. "They won't be _willing_. But when you really get down to it, this organization isn't so fond of giving people a choice, are they? You heard Douglas - he wants to tear apart democracy. And while the main targets are going to be people that aren't exactly positive members of society, there isn't going to be a whole lot of choice involved. What if one day he decides that anyone that resists his ideals should be put to death? Hell, that's exactly what he's doing _now."_

"So then I just can't win," she muttered. "Either the wrong people get to inherit the world, or pokémon get to be treated like property again…"

"There has to be another way. A way to stop everything that's going on here, while also removing the left from positions of power. I know there is."

"Well then I'm all ears."

"I…I don't really know how, but I refuse to believe that we must settle for two extremist parties. There just has to be another option."

"It doesn't seem like there is. Arceus, why did it have to come to any of this?" she seemed to ask to herself. "It just… it isn't fair…"

"Nothing about this situation is fair. It wasn't fair that Hoenn treated you all the way it did. It wasn't fair that thousands got kidnapped and sold in the trafficking market, and it sure as hell isn't fair that millions are about to be vaporized when he decides to launch a motherfucking nuke into Kanto's capital. And shit, if he's willing to do that there… then what will he do when he steps foot onto Hoenn again?"

"He…" she sighed. "He intends to kill almost everyone in the country…"

"Wait, what? He intends to take out the whole fucking country?!" Michael asked.

"Just about. He puts on that carefree smile… walks around like he's all calm and collected… but deep down, he's become consumed by rage. I think… I may have taken after him with that…"

"I think you're giving yourself too little credit. You actually have a moral compass left in you."

"Oh give me a break," she said. "I doubt there's any redemption for the things that I've done. The things I've helped him do."

"I told you already, that's just not true. The man I told you about yesterday? He led Team Rocket all those years ago. But now… he's taken a completely different path. He was willing to destroy what he had created in order to right his past wrongs."

"Even if I wanted to… there's nothing that I can do. He's already getting things in order. I heard him last night - Johto and Kanto fell for one of his distractions, and he's going to be shipping off the first nuke within the week. And once he gets it into one of his bases on the mainland… it won't be long before he launches it…"

"You know that there is a way. Maybe you could contact somebody…"

"He does not keep almost any communication devices on base for that very reason. There are a few computers here and there, but even those are only for document storage and can't actually make contact with anyone…"

"Well fuck…" Michael said. "Then there really is no way to stop this then…"

"I don't think so… Not without somehow managing to take down this entire base. And that would be a death wish. We're locked in. My kind is just going to have to make the best of it… and hopefully…"

"If that's the case, then they better get used to not being allowed in stores or restaurants again. They better not expect to be let into the universities, or actually any sort of fair treatment ever again. That's what the future holds for your kind if Stone's men are put into power. And the sad thing is that they will be able to sleep completely fine with that."

"I… I have helped contribute to the very fall of my kin then… and there will be no way for us to stop him. No matter how many of us there are, no matter how strong… we cannot stand up against bullets and bombs…" The reality of what they had done had hit her like a brick wall.

"Yep. And I'm sure people like me won't exactly be liked either. Not that we are in Johto, anyways…"

"Why is that?" she asked.

"Didn't you hear Douglas say it the other day?"

"Wait… he was actually right about that?!" Judging from her expression, she clearly didn't believe what she was hearing.

"…Yeah, he was. I love my pokémon. They've always been there for me, and one thing turned into another, and just… yeah…"

"…Wow…" she murmured. "That was unexpected…"

"Oh trust me," he laughed, "I didn't expect it either. But I wouldn't have had it any other way. I just wish that I could see them one last time. But unfortunately, I won't get that opportunity. I just hope that one day we will be reunited after death. But… they are equally as immortal as I am, so that even could be wishful thinking…"

"I'm sorry to hear that," Raptor said. "Really, I am."

"It is what it is. I hate the fuck out of it, but it is outside of my power to do anything about the situation. I'm going to die here… wherever here even is… and the girls will never know what happened to me."

"That's… not entirely true," she sighed. "He does have a plan for you… one way or another…"

"What do you mean?" Michael asked.

"Well, he wanted you to help him recruit within Johto, given your position. But you aren't going to do that. So he figured that he might as well get some sort of use out of you… by making an example of you. He plans to film it, and… he's going to send it to the CIC headquarters." _Oh Arceus… they're all going to watch my death…_

"Shit… when does he plan to do this?"

"This upcoming Sunday." That gave him three days left… "And he knows that you will likely try something. He's arranged for a large security detail to watch you every step of the way…" Well then there went his plan. There was no way that he would be able to kill Douglas when there were that many people armed and ready around him. He might be able to take a few down with him before getting completely mowed down.

"Then there's nothing I can do but wait for the inevitable," he sighed. "Well, since I'm going to die, I guess there's no harm in telling me where the hell we are…"

"I guess not," she replied. "We're on Chrono Island. This used to be a Team Rocket warehouse years ago. He decided to turn the abandoned buildings into his base of operations for storing nuclear weapons. Why he chose to practically settle down here is beyond me though. My only guess is that maybe it was to avoid detection."

"Yeah, that makes sense. Worked pretty damn well too," Michael said. "They're still looking for him on the mainland. Who would've thought that he would be hiding in such a place? No one in the CIC would've expected him to set up shop in a place where a lot of them used to work. Right under their noses."

"It won't be long before he won't _have_ to hide. Pretty soon he's going to have Unova backing him, too."

"Unova? But they're pretty left-leaning…"

"Politicians and businesses there have been getting sick and tired of liberalism for some time now. Just like Douglas said, people all over the globe are ready for a change. And he is presenting that opportunity far more than anyone could possibly imagine," Raptor said.

"But murdering and selling innocent people is no way to go about making this change," Michael replied. "Not to mention practically enslaving pokémon once again."

"I hate it. I hate all of it. But it's… too late to stop it now. And he wouldn't listen to me anyways… Not anymore…"

"If that's the case, then I don't know what to tell you. Like you said, pokémon are just going to have to get used to being treated like property once again, and people are just going to keep dying."

 **. . . . .**

Two days left. Michael was having trouble sleeping, knowing what was in store for him. Douglas was going to take his knife and cut through Michael's throat. Only this time, he wasn't going to let up like Raptor had, and all of his comrades and the girls would get to see the footage of him as the life seeped out of him.

But it could be worse. At least given the way things currently were, he had someone to talk with before the end. He hardly believed that the same Raptor he had been speaking with was that very same pokémon that almost killed both him and Alex. However, there was a lot more to her than just an intimidating suit of armor. He had actually had come to enjoy her company these past few days. Aside from the fact that it beat being cooped up with no interaction whatsoever, the sceptile was starting to actually seem oddly friendly. He had the feeling that she was someone that simply wasn't meant to be here, and that a group of people like this was no place for someone like her. Then again, she did nearly kill him twice…

He liked the new Raptor that he was coming to know as of recently, and the likely case was that this was the type of person that she actually was. The entire nature of the situation at hand had seemingly changed a lot of formerly good people into something entirely different, and Douglas was no exception. But she was still within the realm of coming back. The only question was did she want to? That question was answered that very day.

Raptor barged into the room, wearing her armor once again and clearly furious. _Great,_ he thought, _what's gotten into her now?_

"That fucking asshole!" she yelled as she slammed her helmet on the desk, making Michael tense up.

"Uh… I take it you're upset about something?" She looked at him in an unamused manner.

"You could say that! He fucking _meant_ all that! He didn't even give a shit about what _I_ thought!"

"Alright, alright, fill me in on what happened. And please, try to calm down just a little bit. The guards outside might hear you." She nodded, slowly taking a deep breath. Whatever Douglas had said had managed to anger her more than Michael during their last fight, and that was saying something.

"I went to him. I had to ask him… I just had to," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Ask him what?"

"If he would abandon this whole thing. I said that I didn't want to be a part of a movement that would slaughter millions more in the future," she said.

"Okay, and he said?"

"He said he didn't give a damn if I was a part of it or not. It was going to happen with or without me. I asked if this was what he really wanted - he has shown regret for the lives consumed in this process. He doesn't _want_ to do it. But he's forcing himself to over some idea of the 'greater good.' And he doesn't even care that he'll be killed when all of this is said and done. When I asked if he even gave a shit how that would make _me_ feel, he just said I would have to live with it."

"…Wow… That's a way to treat a partner of what, twenty years?"

"Twenty-fucking-seven. He doesn't care… he hasn't in a long time. Not for me. But yet he'll shed tears over the innocent people that he's killed. He has just lost all respect for my kind. And when I told him that, he just… he just fucking walked away." She started to tear up, the venom in her voice being replaced with despair. "It's not fair at all! They turned him into this, and I get to pay the price for it! After all this time, and I'm just a fucking tool for his mission! His mission to eradicate an entire fucking country!"

"No, it's not fair," Michael replied calmly. "Hell, I'd think a little gratitude would be in order after all those years of working together through such a shitstorm. But maybe that's too much to ask for."

"Seems like it," she growled. "Well I've had it with this bullshit. I made the decision last night, but I wanted to be sure. He just gave me all the confirmation I needed. We're going to shut this whole thing down."

"What?"

"We're getting out of here, and we're taking the place down." Michael wanted to be sure that he was understanding this correctly.

"But you even said yourself - this place is inescapable."

"He's put everything we need to destroy this entire place right here."

"Wait… you want to destroy the place too? But you would be killing Douglas…"

"He's already dead. Everything I came to love ceased to exist that day we found him in the hospital. I didn't want to believe it until now, but… he's proven to me that he's not the same person, and he couldn't care less. I hate it… I don't want to do it at all, but I will not allow pokémon all across the world to be treated the same way I just was. Like some kind of a fucking animal. And I will not stand by idly while he massacres millions of people. Not anymore. Now I need you to listen very closely to this plan. I can't stay here too long, or he might come looking for me."

"A…alright…"

"Six in the morning is when most of the base is asleep. If I'm not mistaken, there is only one guard in front of your cell during that time. I'll come around that time and take him out. Once you've put on his uniform, we will head over to the nuclear site, where—."

"Wait a second… holy shit," Michael said in shock. "You can't actually mean—."

"You got any better ideas?" Admittedly, he didn't. He didn't have _any_ ideas; all of this was still taking him by surprise. "He has several. As long as we launch the smallest one and give ourselves enough time to drive down to the edge of the island, we should be fine."

"…So you're telling me that you want to launch one of his nuclear weapons right here on the base?"

"Did I stutter?"

"No… I'm just having trouble processing it all…"

"I can't blame you for that. But this is the only chance to stop everything - to save both my kind and your own."

"…Do you even know how to launch a nuke?" Michael asked.

"No, but I know who does. And he has no life aside from that stupid lab. He even fucking sleeps there. We'll take him to the launch site, make him put in the codes, and kill him. Once that's done, we run over to the vehicle storage unit, grab one, and drive out the front gate. The card he gave me will unlock any door in the facility, including the only entrance. Once we get that vehicle through, we lock it back and shoot it. That should trap them all inside for some time. Then we drive down to the edge of the island, where the abandoned village is. As long as you don't mind getting a little dirty, I'm sure we will be able to hide inside of a sewer or something there when the island gets practically destroyed…" The whole plan sounded insane, but as she had mentioned, he didn't have any better ideas. But aside from that, one other thing was on his mind - something he hated to ask, but needed to do so all the same.

"How do I know this isn't some sort of a setup? Why should I trust you?" She seemed to be slightly hurt upon hearing these words, but she understood his concern nonetheless.

"Because we want the same thing. Regardless of what happened in the past, we both want to prevent what is about to happen. And besides… he's going to kill you anyways. What do you have to lose?" She had a point there. He accepted that he would probably die when he made an attempt at Douglas' life, but now… he had the opportunity to make it out - an opportunity to make it back to the life that he loved. Even on the off chance that she was lying, it was worth a shot. But what about her?

"Alright. But if we get out of here… what will you do?" She remained silent for a moment, thinking it over, before responding with a sigh.

"I guess… I will accept the consequences of what I have done. They will kill me for sure - I helped kill their own. But at least I will be able to die with a clear conscience."

"If we manage to pull this off, I will personally vouch for you. They didn't kill Giovanni for what he did with Team Rocket because he decided to fight off this right here. If you can help actually destroy it all singlehandedly, then I doubt they will sentence you to death."

"Well then whatever happens, I will accept it," she said. "But that is relieving to hear. I don't exactly want to die…"

"Yeah, I can't blame you on that. They will listen to me, given the fact that my country now respects me. When we make it out of here... I want you to join us back at our place."

"Really? But would the others understand?"

"I don't care. I'll make them understand." She nodded, and grabbed her helmet.

"Then I guess this is it… We will be leaving early tomorrow morning. Be ready."

"Will do. Be careful." Raptor prepared to knock on the door again, but then turned around quickly and surprised him by hugging him tightly.

"Thank you... I've done some horrible things… things I can't take back. But I'm going to try to make it right now…"

"I've done bad things too. We all make bad decisions. We can't change the past, but we can change what we do right now. Not to sound belittling… but I'm proud of you." She smiled as she let go, quickly making her way out of the room.

They would have one shot at this. The risk was high, and they both knew that they could very well die in their attempt to escape, but they would make sure to at least drag that bastard down with them.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Something that was pointed out to me is that not every reader will exactly know where Chrono Island is. It is a territory of Kanto and a part of the Sevii Islands that you could journey to in Fire Red/Leaf Green. The place that Douglas has set up shop in used to be the Team Rocket facility that you (the player) had to clear out in the post-game.**

 **One chapter left in the first part of the story! Hope you enjoyed reading!**


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N:**

 **Here it is! The final chapter of the first part of the story! Hope that you all enjoy!**

 **Special thanks once again to Orthros for proof reading this chapter in advance, allowing for the work that you all read to the best possible quality.**

 **If you like this story, please consider checking out my Explorers of Sky fic, _Into Darkness_.**

 **Also, if you would like to see additional content for this story (artwork, political charts, etc), or would just like to talk, feel free to join our discord server. If you are interested, ask me to send you a link over DM.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"There is no wrong time to do the right thing."**

 **-Charles M. Blow**

* * *

 **Chapter 31 - The End of the Beginning**

The door opened for the last time. Raptor entered the cell, dragging the lifeless guard behind her. "Hurry - take his shit and let's go!" She flung him forward, and Michael immediately went about undressing the dead enemy, being careful to get as little blood on the suit as possible. _This will just have to do,_ he thought. The vest did a good job of hiding most of it, at least.

He finished up by holstering the P226 9mm onto his side, then slinging the Galil over his shoulder. Neither were weapons that he had seen any action with, but it all that mattered was that he was armed and had something to protect him from the bullets that they would hopefully avoid. The bullet-resistant vests that the enemies here wore were certainly heavy, and they could possibly even stop the 5.56 rounds that these guns shot. He would just have to aim for the head.

As for Raptor, her armor should do the trick. And this time there was a high probability that she would actually get to make use of it. To be honest, he wasn't so sure about the effectiveness of this plan. It would require them to do everything very quickly and effectively, and relied on the fact that most people were asleep at this time. But with one day away from an inevitable death, and with no other means of escape, this was the only option.

With the body stashed in Michael's cell, they quickly cleaned the evidence of Raptor's blade from the hallway before quietly heading around. Fortunately Douglas kept no cameras within the facility - those could be hacked and would give away everything. All they needed to worry about was people. "There are always two guys outside this door," Raptor said. "We're just gonna walk past them. Probably too dark for them to see your face, so it should be fine. Just act casual." He didn't like such close contact with the enemy, but there was no choice. He didn't know the layout of the facility other than the same couple of routes that he'd been taken along.

She pushed the door open, and he followed her outside. As she had said, two enemies stood with their backs against the wall. But they looked to be fighting off sleep, and certainly didn't pay the two of them much attention. Raptor was a common sight around the base, and Michael blended well enough as one of them. That still didn't keep him from holding his breath as they continued into the darkness of the morning. "This way," she whispered when they were out of hearing range from the guards. The sceptile began to lead them towards a massive, but seemingly run-down building. Large holes were scattered among the rusting rooftop, further selling the image of abandonment. "Here we are. There's always a lot more people around here, so we need to be careful."

"Alright. Where to?"

"Our best bet is to head around to the side entrance," Raptor said as they continued walking. "It leads right to the lab, and we'll probably need to take out only one or two at most." The two of them kept away from the main centers of activity, taking note of where the majority of the enemies were. There was no way around it; they would have to take care of them on their way out. About two hundred meters from the side of the building, he could see the missile silos. They reached the mentioned entrance, and Raptor swiped her card, unlocking the door. But before she opened it, she spoke once again. "If we want to lead him to the launch control panel, then we'll need to clear out the inside first."

"How many should we expect?" Michael asked.

"Probably four or five. Again, act casual and let me take them by surprise. You just focus on hiding their bodies." With that being said, they entered into the dimly lit lab, where the atmosphere changed to pristine white floors and expensive machinery. Beside a set of heavy protective lab suits, an isolated vault was in the corner of the room, where Michael could only guess the nuclear material was stored. No one guarded it, and they likely didn't need to. Not with how many passwords or time-specific key entries were needed to gain access to such a storage unit.

Michael crept forward, his rifle over his shoulder. They couldn't raise alarm yet - not when there was still silent work to be done. Hopefully Raptor could handle whoever was around. Then again, given their previous fights, he had no doubt that she could.

Their first opportunity came as they left the main lab and made their way through the hallway. One guard was walking towards their direction, his rifle similarly on his back. He clearly wasn't expecting anything to happen. Michael didn't know how they would go about this, but he trusted Raptor to take the lead. They just kept walking forward, and eventually, Raptor passed by him, much to Michael's surprise. What he wasn't expecting was for her to rapidly turn around, ejecting the blade from her suit, and sticking it through the enemy's head. He just stood there as the guard went limp immediately, having never known what hit him. Michael quickly looked around, and, seeing no other open rooms, decided that the best place to hide him would be back in the main lab. Taking the body, he quietly lifted him over his shoulder and began retracing his steps. The armored sceptile stayed in the hallway, keeping a lookout for any other nearby enemies while he went about disposing of the body. Once he got inside the main lab, he scanned the room and found a lone door in the corner to the right from the doorway. From its position in the building, it had to be a small room. _Looks like as good a place as any._ He experimentally twisted the doorknob and entered… only to find a guard that was napping on the floor, using his vest as a makeshift pillow. _Fuck…_

The noise from the unexpected visitor managed to wake the enemy, and he slowly opened his eyes to see the sight of a dead ally. "What the fuck?!" he yelled, quickly making a move for the rifle to his side. Michael flung the dead body on top of the weapon before he could grab it, then dove for the enemy. He quickly struck him in the face, then unholstered the pistol and threw it behind him, only to receive a quick punch to the gut as the insurgent viciously began to try to work his way out of the situation. The Reaper made no hesitation in his next move, though, and put all of his strength into a precisely aimed blow to the enemy's throat. He felt the trachea give way, crushing as a result of the brutal impact and causing his foe to instinctively stop fighting, clutching his neck as though it would do any good. But he couldn't be too safe in a matter such as this.

Michael searched around for something until he found a suitable-enough object: among a bunch of scattered reports on the countertop was a single ballpoint pen. He grabbed it and got on the enemy's level once again, then moved his hand aside as he began sputtering blood from his mouth. He swiftly sunk the pen into the terrorist's neck over again, repeatedly stabbing the very artery that Raptor nearly had severed within himself the other day. It was only a moment before the formerly-sleeping guard was put down for good.

He caught his breath quickly, then got back on his feet. Hopefully nobody _else_ would decide to enter this room, as there was no way he could clean up the mess before him. Michael left the room, shutting the door for the time being behind him before joining Raptor once again in the hall. "What took you so long?"

"There was a fucking guard in the room. Not anymore, though."

"Alright. I walked around the facility, and there were only two more. But they're right by each other, about a couple of meters apart, so we're gonna need to do this carefully. Think you could hold one still while I get the other?"

"Yeah… just gotta keep him from pulling that trigger."

"You just take care of that. I'll handle the rest." He continued to follow her through the building, mentally preparing himself for their next course of action. He personally knew Raptor to be a threatening force - that he had learned for sure over their several encounters with one another. He didn't doubt her skill in the slightest, but he disliked the idea of subduing an enemy with only his bare hands, when all it would take to ruin everything was a single shot. They couldn't afford to wake up the complex. That would be happening soon enough, but every minute was precious.

Another few turns through the large building revealed the two individuals Raptor had mentioned. These two seemed to actually be taking their jobs seriously; both held their rifles in their hands, ready to shoot at a moment's notice. They would need to be fast to pull this off. The sceptile was maintaining a casual pace, though, as if they weren't about to risk everything here. He needed to remain calm, or else there was no chance in hell he'd be able to do what he needed to do. _A lot of people are counting on us,_ he thought as they drew near to the guards, _and they don't even know it._

The distance between them and the two enemies closed, and everyone was well aware of each other's presence. Raptor did as she had before by continuing to walk ahead, acting like there was nothing amiss. That was, until one of the enemies spoke. "Shit, is that blood on your suit?" he asked Michael. The Reaper hadn't been able to hide all of the evidence of Raptor's first kill of the morning, nor could he keep from getting sprayed when he stabbed that other guy in the neck. "The hell have you been doing?" He looked at Michael, then suddenly stared at his face, connecting the dots a lot faster than they had hoped.

Before a word was said, Raptor shot out both blades, slicing through the other guard's rifle and following up with a deep stab through his chest. Michael struck the gun as hard as he could, effectively throwing it to the ground as he shoved the insurgent into the wall. The enemy hurriedly made a grab for the holstered pistol, but Michael was on him once again, catching his arm and pinning it to the wall as he received a sharp blow to his ribs. "Need help here!" the enemy called out to dead companions as he put all his strength into pushing Michael off. He made one final motion for the weapon, but never got that far as the thick blade penetrated his throat and the wall behind it.

Raptor and Michael each grabbed one of the two bodies and brought them back to where the others were, with Michael snagging as many magazines as he could comfortably carry. "Alright, now that that's done, let's go get the lab rat. That asshole might have woken him up."

"Let's not waste any time then." The sceptile searched around the several rooms throughout the building, using her card to gain access to each one before checking them out. Most of them were just computer or storage rooms. But eventually, towards the end of the hallway and beside the main entrance was the only bedroom within the nuclear complex. Good - he was still asleep. "Well, guess this is it…" Raptor nodded, then headed over to the sleeping form.

"Wake the hell up!" she ordered, giving him a sharp jab to the side. The nuclear engineer woke with a start, looking with fear towards the heavily armed shadowy forms. But the black-haired man in his forties was immediately overcome with confusion upon recognizing one of them.

"R…Raptor? What the hell are you doing?"

"Get up now," she commanded.

"What's gotten into you?"

"Did you hear what I said?" she growled. Not wanting to further anger the sceptile, the engineer got out of the bed and headed over to his dresser, likely to actually get some sort of clothing aside from only a set of pajama pants. "No time for that - this way." He relented, but did as he was told. Michael stood behind the man as Raptor led the way, making sure that he didn't get any ideas by trying to flee. Not that he would escape Raptor anyways, but he could potentially cause enough commotion to alert the nearby enemies.

Eventually they arrived back at the area where they had killed the two enemies, and the blood stood there as a testament to what had gone down. "W-what? Oh fuck… What did you _do_?!" She remained silent as they entered the sizable room. A large screen was on the wall, and it was already on, showing a globular display of the entire world. Computers were lined throughout the area, one of which had a larger screen in the center of the room. Two smaller ones were on each side of it.

"Hey," Raptor asked Michael, "you can bleed out through your leg, right?" Michael nodded, already knowing where she was going with this.

"As long as you avoid the inner side of the leg, there shouldn't be any concern."

"Great," she replied, before returning her attention to the engineer. She pulled out a chair and shoved him into it, and Michael came closer. "Now before you decide that you aren't willing to help…" She quickly extended the blade on her right and positioned it over his leg. Michael immediately put his hand over the engineer's mouth, holding it tightly to prevent the scream as she slowly sunk it into him. His wails were muffled by Michael, and the Reaper made a mental note to never piss her off.

She pulled the blade out of his leg, showing the blood-covered metal to the gasping engineer as the tears fell down his face. "That was just to let you know I'm not screwing around. I'm going to tell you what to do, and if you step out of line _once_ , or if you so much as _breathe_ too loud, then your balls are next. Understand?" He quickly nodded his head. Michael removed his hand; there was no chance the engineer would risk such a thing. "Good. Now let's begin." She dragged the chair behind her, positioning him in front of the main computer. "Log on," she commanded. He did as he was told, quickly typing on the keyboard until the login screen was bypassed. As soon as he had done this, the two computers beside him whirred to life. The engineer was instinctively grabbing his leg in pain, and Michael couldn't really blame him.

"Alright. Now what is the blast radius of the smallest nuke that you have on hand?"

"Y-you can't be seriously—."

"I asked you a question," she stated.

"It's… about eight kilometers. A prototype of a new hydrogen bomb we developed. Enough to level a small city…" _Good, so then it shouldn't spread radioactivity…_ Raptor turned her attention to Michael.

"Cutting it kinda close… but we should be fine underground. Not like we have much of a choice at this point anyways." Once again, she addressed the hostage. "So I want you to select that one and launch it."

"I c-can't… He'll kill me…"

"And you think I _won't_? The only difference is that I'll make you beg for death. Now do what I fucking said!" He reluctantly typed in a few lines of code as they stood over his shoulder. Michael skimmed over everything that he was typing into the command interpreter. Eventually he typed in the command of interest: _check-status [N3]_. The computer responded with a confirmation; it was armed and ready to go. "Almost there. Now put in the coordinates of this spot right here." The hostage went wide-eyed in horror.

"You're out of your mind! What happened to you? You're going to wipe out everyone he—." She placed the blade under his chin and began to press upward, causing him to lift his head in response.

"That's the idea. Now am I going to need to ask again?" He shook his head, and she pulled away. The engineer slowly typed a few more commands. The screen read:

 _select-destination_

ENTER COORDINATES (LT, LN):

(30.484201, 140.308797)

On the large screen above, the global map quickly zoomed in to their location, showing a large red circle, with the center directly on them. "Give us about ten minutes," Raptor said.

"It won't… it won't take that long…"

"Well _make_ it. Have it circle the damn island for all I care!" He flinched from her, but went back to typing. Adjusting the line of flight to a more inefficient path, the specified red line went northwest, then gradually began to curve back to where it had started. "That's better. Now it's go time. Launch it."

"You've lost… your mind…"

"Launch it!"

"You gotta put in the passwords first," he said in response.

"Well then do it!" He stumbled onto his feet, almost falling down in the process, using the counter to bear the weight that his left leg no longer could as he made his way to the left computer. "Th-they need to be put in at the same time…" Michael headed over to the other one. Five brackets were on the screen, with the cursor automatically on the first one. Only five digits.

"What's the code for this one?" Michael asked. The engineer stayed silent for a moment, but eventually caved in.

"It's… alpha, indigo, zeta, romeo, and… echo…" He typed in his line, and the hostage typed in his. Both screens went black immediately, and one lone line appeared on the main computer.

LAUNCH (Y/N)

Raptor's claw hovered over the keyboard, as if she was second guessing this whole thing. "You ready for this?" she asked Michael.

"Not at all…"

"Yeah… me neither…" She pressed the 'y' key, then hit enter. Immediately the sirens started blaring, and now stealth mode had gone out the window. _Now it's go time…_ Raptor stabbed the engineer in the chest, leaving him to die on the ground as they ran towards the back entrance. Michael's heart pounded as he attempted to ready himself for what would undoubtedly be the most dangerous mission he had ever undertaken. Now there would be a strict time limit for all of their actions. They neared the set of doors and Raptor stopped in front of them. "This is where you come in," she said. He held the Galil up, ready to pull the trigger upon sight of the first enemy. "Keep us covered until we get to the vehicle. Now let's go!" He kicked the doors open, finding the guards from before to be running away from the opening missile silo. He targeted the one in the back of the line, pulling the trigger and dropping him in two or three shots. As he mowed through the rest of them, the entire base was alerted of the presence of an enemy within.

Raptor ran forward, and Michael followed as he quickly ejected the empty magazine and replaced it with a new one. The shrill sound of the siren filled the morning air, and the hornet's nest had now been stirred. They would only have a few moments before everyone was out and ready to kill them. But he looked like them initially. That could buy him the few precious seconds needed to pull the trigger at a still oblivious enemy. But if they saw Raptor cleaving their allies in half… not to mention if Douglas saw them… then they would be swarmed.

They sprinted towards the storage lot for the various vehicles there. Helicopters, tanks, and dozens of types of modified automobiles. "This one!" Michael shouted as he headed to a lightly-armored Humvee. "I'll drive, you shoot!" Raptor yanked open the door, climbing in and standing up so that she was level with the mounted M240. Michael followed her in, closing the door. Michael could see in the side mirror the missile already climbing into the air. There was no stopping it.

"Keys are always in the glove compartment," she said. He tossed his rifle into the passenger seat, grabbing the keys and cranking up the vehicle. He put in in reverse, carefully pulled out of the lot, and mashed the gas. He turned the corner of the building sharply, coming up to a pair of enemy guards that were clearly still trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He hit them full speed, sending their bodies overhead. "Watch it!" Raptor yelled.

"Sorry!" He steered them towards the front entrance of the base, readying one of the several pistols he had gathered in his right hand for the expected contact. The second the front gate came into view, the weapon over his head began to fire. There was no doubt about who the troublemakers were now. Michael drove the Humvee right up to the front gate, seeing the ten or so guards around get mowed down as they tried in vain to shoot the two aggressors. The top right portion of the windshield had cracked, but they were unscathed. Michael quickly parked it, grabbed the rifle, and jumped outside. "I've got the gate! You cover me!" She nodded, then threw down her card key to him. Seconds later she was burst firing the M240 once again. Michael ran over to the card reader, quickly swiping the card and causing for the massive steel gates to creak to life. As he waited the few moments necessary for the entrance to open, he took aim at the approaching enemies from the main building. The second they opened the door, he was ready for them, spraying down several as soon as they dared to step foot outside. It didn't take long for them to get the message and start seeking other methods of getting outside.

Michael had blown through two full mags, mostly in laying down cover fire, before the gate had fully opened enough for them to leave. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of the helicopters starting up despite the sharp ringing in his ears. He wasted no time in swiping the card once again and running around to the other side of the truck. Before he hit the gas, he rolled down the window and shot the card reader. _Let's see how they like being trapped for a change._ With about eight minutes or so left to spare, he stepped on the gas, taking the Humvee to its top speed as the door closed behind them. Raptor hopped down into the seat next to him, sliding the guns off to the side.

"Well that was something," Raptor stated. She had already taken countless lives of her recent comrades in these past few minutes, and that was a fact that she was likely still trying to process.

"You did great out there," Michael said, taking them towards the town on the other side of the island. "Are you hurt at all?"

"Nope. They shot at me, but none of them hit."

"Good. We should be there in five or so minutes. We'll have time to spare when the nuke hits."

"Okay." She looked out the window at the lightly forested hills as they sped through the grasslands. Thankfully all living things, aside from those that had anything to do with the situation at hand, had long since abandoned this island. Neither of them wanted to be responsible for the deaths of countless innocent pokémon. The sceptile remained silent for a moment, clearly thinking about the events at hand.

"Hey… everything good?"

"Yeah," she said, "I just… I can't believe any of this is happening right now. That I just helped destroy all of it… and that I'm about to hand over all of _his_ information to the authorities. But… I'm also scared. What will everyone think of me? There will be calls for my head… Is it selfish for me to want to be rid of the whole thing?"

"No… I won't allow there to be consequences. It's not fair for them to let the leader of a gang go free because of his actions against Stone while not giving you the same treatment."

"I just hope that that's the case. That they might find it in themselves to forgive me for what I've done…" The town was about three kilometers away, and they had a little over five minutes remaining until the detonation. But aside from the sound of the engine was another one altogether. A glance at the side mirror confirmed his suspicions.

"Fuck… It looks like we've got company." A daunting stream of helicopters was headed their way, quickly closing the distance between. A quick flash from the underside of the lead aircraft, and a missile was launched in their direction. "Hang on!" He swerved the vehicle over into the woods, narrowly missing a large tree. The explosion behind them reverted sizable trees into mere splinters, shaking the ground and hurling dirt everywhere as the ringing in his ears intensified. Everything had seemingly gone so well, and now there was the possibility of Douglas making it off of the island…

"We gotta hold them back!" Raptor shouted.

"How the hell are we gonna do that?!" He had to slow down, or else the helicopters would be the least of their concern.

"We… we just have to keep fighting!" She climbed up once again into the shielded portion of the armored vehicle, gripping the M240 in preparation. More explosion were sounding around them; the enemies were ready to wipe these woods out to get to the two of them. "We don't have a choice anyways! We stop, we die! Now let's go!" He shook his head, but turned the vehicle back to the left. Not like they had the time to waste anyways. They would have to keep going.

The Humvee made a sharp turn back onto the road, and the sound of the rotors could be heard coming closer and closer. Michael swiftly turned the vehicle back onto the main road as Raptor pointed the mounted gun towards the incoming enemies. One of the aircraft was directly to their right, the side door opened and a minigun aimed towards them. A lethal line of bullets cut the road in half, spraying into the vehicle and blowing the windows out. Raptor quickly aimed and fired at the enemy behind the weapon, taking half of his head with a series of well-placed shots. He fell forward and out of the vehicle, slamming into the road as the sceptile brought the helicopter down with several shots to the rotor.

The town was within a kilometer, and if he was keeping track correctly, they only had a little more than a minute. Raptor was doing her best to keep the other enemies at bay, but it was evident with her three-round bursts that she was running out of ammunition. A quick glance in the mirror showed that she had managed to take down another by killing the pilot. As it spun out of control, Michael hooked a sharp left. The explosion shook the vehicle, and shrapnel shredded the tires on the right side. Sparks flew from the side as Raptor's firing came to a halt. She hurriedly tried to lower herself into the vehicle as another deadly barrage of bullets cut through it. But throughout the chaos, and the sheer noise of the situation, one sound stood out to him, clearly distinguishable despite everything around them. Her scream.

Raptor fell violently into the passenger seat, clutching her left side in pain. Despite the armor, a single round had managed to penetrate through, lodging itself within the sceptile. _Arceus… no…_ "Raptor!"

"S-shit…" she gasped. He couldn't do anything here, regardless of how much he wanted to. He needed to tend to her quickly, but if they stopped, then they wouldn't even survive until the blast.

"Hang on! We're almost there!" He ran through the fence into the town, and swerved into a thin ally between some crumbling brick buildings. Michael immediately grabbed the rifle and jumped out of the Humvee before running back out onto the sidewalk. Two helicopters still in the air, one of which was dangerously close, hovering over the destroyed fence. The Reaper took aim into the open aircraft, shooting the gunner before ducking back behind the wall. "We've gotta run NOW!" He tossed the rifle into the driver's seat, running around the side to where she was and helping her out. "Can you walk?!"

"I th…think so…" She stumbled onto her feet, clutching the side of the vehicle for support. He cautiously checked back on the road to see the other helicopter about a mile away, trying to make its way out to sea. They wouldn't make it.

"Coast is clear!" He ran over to the corner of the sidewalk, where a manhole led down to a storm sewer. Michael lifted the heavy metal lid up, revealing the ladder into the darkness. "Come on!" Raptor lowered herself into the depths. In the distance, the missile could be seen descending back towards the island quickly. _Shit… here we go…_ He hurried inside of the sewer, pulling the lid back over them as he climbed downwards as fast as he could. Both he and Raptor made it to the concrete floor, and he covered his ears in preparation for what was to come.

The shock wave could be felt across the entire island, and the roll of thunder seemed to echo throughout the world. Michael and Raptor could only remain still as the wrath of Arceus himself rained down upon the island, decimating everything overhead and reducing the town into nothingness as it passed out into the sea. Surely neighboring islands would notice an explosion like that, and before long, help would be on the way.

There was no telling how long they spent down there. If Michael had to guess, he'd say about ten minutes. Surely everything above had reached its conclusion. One thing was for certain, though: he needed to tend to Raptor _now_. She had a thick, dark stream of blood trailing down her side, originating from a nasty wound cavity. She wouldn't look forward to this part, but it needed to be done. He helped her climb back up the ladder in her weakened state, and eventually managed to lift the heavy manhole cover once again, pushing it to the side and revealing the hell that they had created. _Holy shit…_

Despite the darkness of the morning, the flames illuminated everything throughout Chrono Island. The majority of the houses had been leveled, and the island and everything on it lay in complete waste. Over it all, the mushroom cloud stood, a testament for all the world to see of what had just occurred. Among the shallow waters of the ocean was the remnants of the crashed helicopter, broken and reduced to nothing more than scrap metal, the final flickers of light escaping the aircraft. Raptor quietly growled in pain as Michael helped lift her out of the sewer, and helped move her over to the side of what remained of a two story building: a single story, and one that was still in the process of falling apart at that. "Easy now," he said as he gently lowered her onto the ground. "Let's have a look at that wound. I'm gonna need to remove this part of your armor." She nodded, then slowly hit the latches on her right side. Michael took note of the suit's design, and went about undoing the latches on the left side, using as much care as possible to avoid hurting the sceptile.

With that being done, he carefully removed the main torso segment of her armor, setting it to the side. The suit had a large dent around the site of the wound, where it was evident that several of the 7.62x51 bullets had struck her. One was close enough to another to where it punched through, lodging itself within her chest. But closer inspection revealed that the small remnants of the shattered bullet lay within her rib. Not a good place to be shot, but certainly not a threat to her life, especially given the fact that most of the bullet fragmented off outside of her suit. "Well… it's not fatal," Michael said, "but I don't like how much it's bleeding. I think it may have hit one of your intercostal arteries. We can dig the bullet out later, and they'll put you down for that, but this needs to be taken care of now. It would be safest to go ahead and cauterize it…"

"A-alright…" He could tell by the sound in her voice that she was aware of how much this part would hurt. Michael went back to where the Humvee was, but found it to be buried underneath a pile of broken concrete. _Well there goes the fucking guns…_ Eventually he found something suitable enough for what he had in mind: a protruding copper wire from a nearby shattered utility pole. He pulled it out, then headed back towards Raptor. Michael ripped off the sleeve of the uniform, wrapping it around the wire before setting it ablaze, kneeling beside her.

"This isn't gonna feel good…"

"Just do it," she grunted. Michael tried to be as gentle as he could, using his left thumb to spread the wound open in order to grant him better access, followed by carefully prodding the wire into her. The response was immediate; she growled harshly in pain and tried to avoid trembling as he held the flame inside. What lasted but a few seconds had likely felt like an eternity for her, but it was over now. He tossed the wire to the side and took a seat next to her.

"Well," he sighed, "we did it…"

"Yeah," she laughed, despite her situation, "we did…"

"I almost can't believe it," Michael continued. "What I set out to do all those years ago… my very reason for joining the Reapers… and just like that, it's been accomplished…"

"Well… not completely," Raptor admitted. "He still has his hired militants scattered around. Not to mention a few of his idealists here and there, or all those politicians. But after I bring my bargaining chip to the table, that should be taken care of as well."

"Bargaining chip?"

"This," she said, pulling out a small flash drive out of one of the few compartments on her suit. "He did have a few computers here and there. Like I said, it was almost all for document storage. He kept impeccable records, and it just so happens that I knew the password to his personal computer."

"Seems to me like Douglas couldn't have shot himself in the foot any more than he did…" Michael replied.

"Yeah, he didn't exactly help himself," Raptor responded. But then, her tone of voice dropped. "I… I still remember him as that fun, loving kid all those years ago… Not this. This wasn't him." She took one other object out of the compartment: something Michael had already seen in the photo. "The day he got me this… it was a birthday gift. He gave it to me when I was still a treecko, and told me that I would do great things in life… Well… this is the only thing I've done that was worth doing…"

"Raptor… you're a hero to more people than you could count. You made all of this possible."

"Yet if I had stopped him sooner… then there wouldn't have been all this suffering. I should have stepped in long before this…" she said.

"Well you can't change the past. But you made the right choice now. That's all that matters." He helped her up, deciding that it would be best to wait near the shoreline, where it would be easier for incoming aircraft to see them. No doubt the island would soon be flooded with them, likely coming from Floe Island. As they walked through the aftermath of the nuclear explosion, the sun was preparing to rise above the horizon, painting the waters and sky a vibrant orange and matching the environment on Chrono Island. _A fitting end to such a horrid group of people_ , he thought as the new dawn started. A new dawn for the world, no doubt - a world that had seemingly come to the very brink of destruction.

"So," Raptor trailed off, "looks like that's it then… He's really dead…"

"Did he still mean anything to you?" Michael asked.

"No, I… I don't know. I wanted to believe that part of him was still worth saving. That he would go back to being the person that I knew all those years ago. Maybe… maybe had he gotten help, he could've turned back…"

"I doubt he would have been willing to do that, though," Michael said.

"I guess we'll never know," she said sadly.

"Hey… are you okay?"

"I will be over time. I hate that it had to come to this…"

"Yeah… me too." The two of them looked out into the distance, seeing nothing as of yet. Floe Island, despite its small population, did have hospitals and a few active cities. Michael's mind went blank though as he stared at the beautiful sight before them, nothing like what they were about to leave. To think that such beauty could be present in such close proximity to something as horrid as what they had unleashed. Maybe had they been more focused, they would have heard the figure approaching them from between the crumbling buildings.

"To think that _you_ would have brought this whole thing down on me," he said, stepping out in front of them. Michael and Raptor froze up, their worst fears coming to life before them. _How? How did he survive?!_ He was drenched, apparently having survived the crash into the ocean. "I see your loyalty to the cause was swayed."

"I..I—."

"I don't want to hear a word from you," Stone said, devoid of all emotion. "You are worse than him, to have switched to the other side in but a matter of days. All because of what? The fact that I said one thing that you didn't like? You are pathetic, and you are a traitor. You can take that to your grave." In his right hand, Michael's revolver was readied. The gun that had done him well over these past years… now was about to be the end of them.

"Look around Douglas," Raptor said. "It's over. There's nothing you can do now…"

"It's not over until I _say_ it's over!" he snapped. "Twenty years of planning down the drain… but I _will_ come back! It's in my nature. They can't stop me, and neither can you!"

"It doesn't have to be like this!" Raptor said. "You don't have to do _any_ of this! I know you hate the pain and the suffering we've caused. I've watched you beat yourself up over the years, but still continue to inflict such torment on the lives of others. But you don't have to do it anymore! This isn't the greater good! It's just revenge against people that did nothing to deserve it…"

"They did _everything_ to deserve it. They earned their deaths, just like you both have earned yours." Douglas looked at Michael, then shook his head. "I gave you every chance. I wanted you to be a part of all this - making the world a better place forevermore. But this is what I get in return. I'm going to ship your fucking head to your pets and let them think about that for a bit. I wanted all of you in on this, but now… I'm going to kill you. I'm going to kill them all." Douglas cocked the revolver, before pointing it at Michael.

Raptor lunged forward, and in a flash, Douglas reacted. Her blade had missed its initial mark, but managed to cleave the weapon in half. But not before it had gone off. He watched in horror as the sceptile fell forward, impacting the ground with a violent _thud_. _No…_ He turned towards Stone, enraged, and closed the distance between himself and the terrorist as quickly as he could. Douglas responded with an uppercut in the stomach, followed by a swift hook to the side of his head. The Reaper fell onto his back, right beside the downed sceptile. Stone pulled his Kabar out of its sheath as Michael stumbled back onto his feet.

"You've ruined everything!" Douglas yelled. "You got into her head and turned her against me!"

"You did that part on your own." Michael balled up his fists, getting in his fighting stance. The enemy had no resemblance of humanity left within him. No, that had ceased to exist long before this moment. Stone reached down and gripped his shirt at the waistline, tearing it upward and flinging the shredded article behind him. A wicked black gyarados wrapped around his body, the tattoo trailing from his sides all the way to his upper chest. He was cut, more so than anyone Michael had ever seen before. He silently prayed as the aggressor closed in. This was it.

Douglas made a quick slice for Michael's throat, barely being stopped by the Reaper's arm, clutching onto his hand and stopping the blade inches away from his neck. Michael struck him in the face, watching as the terrorist barely budged from the blow. He didn't have time to think it over before he received a sharp punch to his face once again, this time sending his helmet flying. Douglas dropped the knife, catching it in his other hand and stabbing forth, narrowly missing Michael's chest as the Reaper dodged to the side. Stone responded in kind with something unexpected: he swiftly spun around, his foot connecting with Michael's face. He stumbled back, doing his best not to hit the ground as the terrorist closed in once again.

Michael once again grabbed caught Douglas' hand before he could sink the knife into the Reaper's flesh. Not wasting any time, he struck the terrorist as hard as he could in the abdomen, intending to knock the wind out of him. His attempt had failed, though; Douglas swiftly spun around, and before Michael could react, the knife had drawn a clean line through the protective vest. The light one of blood could have been far worse; had he not been wearing the vest, Douglas would have spilled his entrails. He quickly backed away to avoid a fast swipe at his thigh. If he didn't start going on the offense more in this fight, he would lose it. And he sure as hell wasn't about to let that happen.

He used the one advantage he had over the terrorist: his sheer strength. Michael charged into Douglas, forcing him back into the crumbling brick wall. Securing the knife away from his body, he gripped the enemy's throat, intending to crush his windpipe. What he wasn't expecting was the swift knee to the groin, almost making him hurl in pain. And the second he stumbled, he felt the sting of the knife pressing into his vest, and trying to force its way into his abdomen. Barely remaining on his feet, Michael punched Stone in the inside of his elbow, causing him to drop the knife. Without the fear of being stabbed, he was free to go all out.

A harsh headbutt sent Stone back into the wall, and Michael followed it up with a brutal hook to the jaw. Douglas tried to push him off - to end the assault that he was losing, but Michael wouldn't let up. The year of rage - the very pent up desire for revenge for all that the man had done - was fueling every hate-filled punch. As he struck Stone over and over again, he savored the sight of the ability to fight draining away as the enemy was forced to go on the defense.

But a single, light jab to the neck was enough to make him freeze up in shock. The pain seared through his neck as he instinctively clutched his throat. While Michael was dazed, Douglas grabbed the shoulder-pieces of the vest and shoved the Reaper face-forward into the wall. He fell onto his back as Douglas stumbled off to the side, picking up the knife once again, before positioning himself on top of the fallen soldier. Michael only barely managed to clasp Douglas' forearm before the knife could sink in to his head.

Over and over Douglas struck him in the face with his other hand, sending his blood all over the place and causing his vision to fade. "I wanted to cooperate!" yelled Stone as he continued to beat him. "I wanted you all in! But you had to go and ruin the whole fucking thing! Johto is going to take advantage of this moment of weakness, and they're gonna fight! So now I've got to kill _all_ of them, just like I'm going to kill you!" He hauled back, jerking his hand free from Michael's grasp, and swiftly thrust the knife downward. In that split second, Michael couldn't think - all he could do was act. He reached up to stop the knife, causing it to sink all the way through his hand.

The Reaper yelled out in pain as the blade stopped about a foot away from him, dripping with his blood as Douglas pressed it down. As the knife closed in towards his face, Michael struck Stone with whatever force he could muster, trying to delay what was coming to no avail. Douglas simply pushed both his hands down, speeding up the knife's descent towards its target. The terror was flooding through him; out of the corner of his eye, he searched for something - _anything_ \- that he could use. All that remained around was remnants of the house, scattered about and mostly out of reach. One thing: a broken brick. He reached for it, apparently being unnoticed by Douglas, who was dedicating all of his focus into forcing the tip of the Kabar into Michael's forehead. His fingers brushed over the brick, and he swiped it closer, managing to firmly grasp it in his right hand. He swung with all his might.

The corner of the brick impacted Stone's head, sending him to the ground as though he'd been shot. The terrorist rolled over, trying to get up and recover from the dazing blow. This was the only chance he would get to end this; he wouldn't let it go to waste. Michael ripped the knife out of his hand, barely remaining conscious as the blood poured out. He crawled over to Douglas, striking him onto his back before getting on top of him, just the reverse of their previous situation.

"Go to hell!" Michael yelled, thrusting the knife downward. The point aimed at the enemy's chest, only being stopped short by his arm. The look of fear was impossible to miss. Douglas was able to hold Michael off using both hands, but the soldier refused to give up. He took his injured left hand, and hit the handle of the Kabar, shooting the worst pain imaginable through him. The harsh impact proved too much, and the blade sunk in lightly to the insurgent's chest. Michael quickly repeated the action as Stone attempted to push back, but this time, he was too late. The seven inch blade had sunk in to the very hilt.

Douglas looked down at the handle, embedded into the middle of his chest, then back at Michael. His hands dropped to his side, and he knew that the fight was over. "Look… what y-you've done…" he said in short, sputtering breaths. "Raptor… she didn't know… shit… and neither do you." Michael staggered over to the wall, barely managing to prop himself against it as he looked back to the enemy. "The people th-that you just saved… they're going to hate you for what you are. For what you stand for…"

"Then that's on them," Michael replied quietly.

"Mark my words," Douglas said, before coughing up blood, "…they will unite. They will come for you all. And now… there won't be anyone to stop them…"

" _We_ will," Michael said. "If they do come… we will be there to take them out. But your methods… your ideals… they're going to die right here with you." Douglas began another fit of coughing, dark blood seeping from his mouth once again.

"M…maybe not. I didn't think I'd lose it all. Not th-this close to everything. But here we are…" His voice was beginning to fall more quiet, and as the fires around started to die out, he looked at the Reaper. "You… one day you'll have to decide. One day you will be g…given the decision to make. Then you'll see… why I made the choices I did…"

"I will _never_ make the same choices as you…"

"You say that now…" Douglas gasped, "but… deep down… I don't think we're so different… No… we're the same, you… and I…" The air left his lungs, and the expression on his face froze, staring right through the Reaper. Michael remained still for a moment, but eventually managed to divert his focus, leaving the still body behind him. There was a much more important matter at hand.

He made his way back to her as quickly as he could, finally able to look over the new bullet wound. The exit wound was large, and she had already lost an unnerving amount of blood. Michael knelt down beside her - she was still breathing. But she wouldn't be for long if they didn't get her out of here soon. Over the horizon, helicopters could be seen approaching the island. "Help me… move over," she said weakly. He slid his arms under her side, making sure to avoid the wound as he rolled her over. Now he was able to see where the bullet had entered. It was far worse. No words came to mind as he looked at the hole within her - right through the liver. The sceptile slowly moved her arms over to her helmet, reaching around the side. Michael helped her remove the piece, tossing it away.

"Raptor…" She shook her head.

"You know as well… as I do…" she said.

"No," he said, motioning towards the incoming aircraft, "look - they're right here! They can save you…" He tried to pry his gaze away from the blood streaming down her side. No matter how much he wanted it to - no matter how much he prayed - it simply wouldn't stop.

"Nothing can. And it's… probably for the best. It is what I deserve for all that I've done…"

"Raptor, don't you do this. You're not going anywhere - you're gonna be alright!" He didn't care to stop the tears from flowing. How could she be so willing to accept this? "You've gotta fight this!"

"No… my fight is done," she replied. "But promise me… promise me that you'll finish it." Her arm trembling, she reached into the compartment and grabbed the two objects within.

"I… we will. We will…" He took the hard drive and the bracelet from her, slipping them into his pockets. "But please… I don't want you to go…"

"I d-don't want to either… but I deserve to. I only pray… that Arceus may forgive me for what I have done."

"Pl-please," he begged, starting to, despite what he had just done, cry like a child. "Don't do this…"

"Your pokémon… they are lucky to… have you. Maybe if things had been different… I could have been among them… But now… all is as it should be…"

"No… no it isn't," Michael said. "You can't—."

"Michael… you h-have to… tell everyone what… happened here. Don't let the world make… the same mistakes…"

"I won't," he sniffed.

"Good…" Michael gently wrapped his arms around her, and she, in response, tenderly returned his embrace with a single clawed hand. The helicopters could be heard overhead, descending to their location.

As the sun welcomed the start of a new day, the sceptile's arm fell to the ground.

 **. . . . .**

* * *

 **END OF PART ONE**

* * *

 **. . . . .**


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N:**

 **And now we head into Part Two of the story. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Also, as usual, special thanks to Orthros for the proof reading services. It's always a huge help.  
**

 **If you like this story, please consider checking out my Explorers of Sky fic, _Into Darkness_.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"Safeguarding the rights of others is the most noble and beautiful end of a human being."**

 **-Khalil Gibran**

* * *

 **Chapter 32 - The Aftermath**

 _Three Years Later_

The gunshot echoed across the range, but aside from that, not the sound that he wanted to hear. The metal target remained stationary, and dirt had been kicked up above and to the right. Michael took one more shot, and the bullet landed in about the same area. "Nice shot."

"Shut up." He turned the dial on his scope: one click down, two to the left. Then, putting his crosshairs on the target once more, he squeezed the trigger. This time, the plink could be heard, and the target moved slightly.

"About time. It's only two hundred yards," Alex said.

"Never had to zero my own scope in," Michael replied. That had always been done for them; they could trust that the weapon they were given would shoot almost exactly where they put the crosshairs. But now, on his own personal weapon, he didn't have such a luxury. In his time off, he had purchased several firearms, including the one he was testing out today: an M1A Socom with a 4x scope on it, though he was considering changing that part.

"Well then guess this is as good a time as any to learn." Alex reached over into his own range bag and pulled out a handgun case. "Brought my own new one to test out."

"Nice. What did you get?"

"Check it out." Alex flipped the latches up, then pulled it open. Inside was a Ruger Redhawk: a large, eight shot .357 revolver with a four inch barrel. "MSRP is over a thousand, but the place was closing up shop. Sold it for a little over six hundred."

"That was a good find. I just about paid full price for this thing." Alex opened a new case of .357 ammunition and went about loading the revolver before taking aim at the much closer target they had set up specifically for handguns - this one being a paper silhouette of a person. The gun went off, and a hole appeared on his shoulder. Alex cocked the hammer, taking more careful aim. The second shot sounded, and this time, the hole appeared on the other side, this time not even being on the target at all. "Nice shot," Michael said, echoing his friend's own words.

"Whatever. If you're so good with these, why don't you show me how it's done?" Michael glanced at the revolver, then shook his head.

"I think I'll pass."

"Huh. Alright then." He shot the rest of the cylinder, managing to land a few in the general chest area. "Think it's drifting a little to the right with this ammo," he eventually concluded, adjusting the small back sights ever-so-slightly. "So, you fully moved in yet?"

"Just about. We're unpacking the last boxes now. You?"

"Yep, we're in. Dad just went and paid a company."

"Gotcha. What about Thomas? Didn't hear anything about his new living plans."

"I think he actually stayed back at base, just like Samuel," Alex said. "I know he wanted to keep at it. He's hoping to reach general one day. Living there only makes sense."

"Right."

Their mandatory four tours had come to an end, and with it, everything Douglas had ever built. The politicians that had been willing to betray their countries had been killed within a matter of days, including a couple within Johto's own boundaries. His assets had been seized and destroyed, and just like that, the country had moved on. Most of the Twenty-Fifth had as well.

With their service behind them, they had gone their separate ways. Of course, they were still keeping in touch quite frequently, and hopefully they would continue to do so in the future. But only time could tell what would happen. One thing was for certain, though: he would need to search for another form of employment. It wouldn't be hard - just about whole country knew who he was after the events years ago. Many employers would be delighted to have a name like his working under them. He did, in fact, remember enough of his education to likely do well in a workplace environment of his field. Maybe Silph would still be hiring. That was one of the places that he had wanted to work at before joining the Reapers, though he still wasn't set on that particular idea. And if that didn't work out, Wesley had told him that the military always had a place for him.

But who said he had to do it _now_? It had only been about a month since their last tour had come to its close, and he had enough money for him and the girls to live off of for a year or two before things would start getting dire. Granted both financial and employment security, there wasn't any need to rush. If anything, this time had almost been relaxing, which was now kind of a big deal for him.

"I'm going to miss the others," Alex said.

"Not like we're never gonna see them again. Two of 'em are literally right up there," he said, motioning to the mountain range.

"Yeah, and all we have to do is just hike up there, right? Or try and sneak onto a supply helicopter. That should do the trick."

"Well they can come see us whenever they have time off…"

"Yeah, that's true. But seems like Kevin's gone for good, and John just had to go to the other side of the country, didn't he?"

"That's life," Michael said. "Seems like people can just leave like that."

"Guess so. At least we got phones."

Once they had concluded their target practice, the two of them began to pack their bags into their respective trucks. He'd probably need to make another few adjustments to his new rifle, but he was satisfied with it for the time being.

"Welp," Alex said, shutting the passenger door, "guess I'll be seeing ya next Saturday. You take care. Tell the others I said hi."

"Sure thing." Michael got into his truck, then started up the engine. But before he could drive away, Alex rolled down his passenger window, to which Michael followed suit.

"How long are you going to do this?" Alex asked.

"What?"

"Putting it off." Michael rolled his eyes.

"We're not discussing this again. I hear enough of it at home."

"It needs to be discussed. And you know we're right."

"Drop it Alex."

"Fine," his friend relented. "Just think about it, alright?"

"Alright…" They each rolled their windows up, and backed out of the range, before taking different turns.

As Michael drove back to his apartment, his mind was occupied. The city was coming into sight from the wooded trail; the very same city that had changed very little over these past few years. Johto altogether hadn't undergone many changes, although participation in the Assembly had dropped massively. For the rest of the world though, the same couldn't be said.

He knew it would happen - he had called it back when he had been imprisoned by Douglas. Radical leftists across the world attributed everything about Stone's actions as due to conservatives. It was somehow the entire right wing's fault for the terrorist uprising that had nearly brought the world to ruin - the actions of a few radical people. Debates across Kalos, Unova, and especially Hoenn, labeled conservatism as an evil that needed to be dealt with. Never mind the fact that it was some of the most right-winged countries in the world that had contributed the most to the fight against Douglas, or the fact that it was Raptor and him that brought everything down on the terrorist's head. They continued to spout their bullshit lies in order to push their false narrative. _I hope those regions collapse_ , he concluded as he entered into some suburbs. Nuking them had not been the proper response, but if they continued down this path, then he would shed no tears for the failure of those countries.

Over a few blocks down was where the bitter reality had started. He had gone there once since then, but found that Ethan's house had been demolished and replaced with another. Michael hadn't heard anything from his mother all this time, either. Not like he cared anyways; he was perfectly content with the girls; that was all he needed in terms of family. Them and his comrades.

In a way, it was kind of sad that they had, for the most part, gone their separate ways. John had bought a nice little beach house over in Olivine and settled down with his new wife, deciding to pursue a career in the secret service for the governor. Such a job would keep him home much more often than anything the Reapers would do. Kevin moved back to Sinnoh, and both Thomas and Samuel had stayed back at base to further their own military careers. Michael still wasn't sure what he would do, and there were definitely many options.

Eventually he pulled into the parking lot for the apartments, turning his car off and slinging his range bag over his shoulders. Once he had grabbed his rifle, he made his way towards their unit. Being around nine in the morning, it was likely that everyone was up. He nearly entered the key into the door before it opened. Alaina was there, smiling triumphantly once again. "You just about had it that time," she said.

"It's almost like you can sense me coming… oh wait…"

"Hey, to be fair, I had to finish pouring the batter before I could come," she laughed, before hugging him gently. "Ver's out flying. Just left ten minutes ago."

"That's fine. She'll just be late for breakfast."

"How was your trip to the range? Did your new gun shoot well?" she asked.

"It was okay. Three inch groups at two hundred. Still need to work some stuff out with it, but it'd definitely do the job if I needed it to."

"Well that's good. I would hope that it would for fifteen hundred dollars."

"Yeah, well don't worry. I won't be buying any more for awhile." He entered into the apartment, carrying his range equipment and rifle to the bedroom in the back. Once he'd opened the closet, he carefully set them in their designated places. But before shutting the door back, he stopped and looked at his formal uniform. It was now decorated with miscellaneous different pins and badges. His ranking was now displayed on his shoulder; for his service, he had been promoted to captain. But a small pin - right beside the emblem of the Reapers - signified something far more valuable. A small golden star with a silver circle etched into the middle of it - the Star of Valor. He had been awarded it for his actions in taking Douglas down; an award of which most recipients were given posthumously. John had similarly received one for his leadership when the base had been under attack. It was the highest military honor available. But medals weren't able to bring back what had been lost, nor were they able to help him sleep at night.

He shut the door before heading back into the dining room. Alaina and the others were setting up the table, with everyone except for Veronica present. Charlotte looked like she wanted nothing more than to go back to bed, her eyes being half shut. "Didn't sleep?" Michael asked.

"Not very well," Charlotte murmured.

"And whose fault was that?" Layla asked. "Considering you stayed up on Netflix with a tub of ice cream…"

"Shut up," the braixen said. While they were speaking, Michael poured himself a cup of coffee, preparing to take a seat on the couch in the living room. But before he could do so, Alaina grabbed his arm.

"No, you're sitting with us this time," she said quietly. He said nothing, but followed the latias as she pulled him towards the others. He took his seat, but didn't bother to fix a plate. While everyone began to eat, he simply stared at the television, watching the news.

The country had come to expect this by now. Protests had sprung up at the Capitol, with people chanting for all sorts of reformations. They'd figured that this had been enough, and ever since Douglas had been killed, they retaliated back in full force. Every couple of days one of these demonstrations would take place, with everything from burning effigies of the president - especially after his reelection - to throwing miscellaneous projectiles at the police. Some were there for the legal recognition of pokémon and human relationships, while others were there for all sorts of sexual minority causes. But as tolerant, and as enlightened as they claimed to be, they sure did act pretty hateful.

Michael just didn't understand. What rights did these people not have? It wasn't illegal to engage in any sort of consensual relationship in the region. The way these people were making it sound, you'd think the government was personally hunting them down and killing them. While the Assembly had been doing some of that in the past, the vast majority of the population was strongly against that group of people, and felt that both their methods and Stone's were nothing short of evil. But he'd seen it all before in Kalos: no matter _what_ laws were passed, they would always find something to bitch about. The moderates would become the new enemy as these people would grow more and more radical - these unproductive, obnoxious people. There was no making them happy.

"What do you think Michael?" Alaina asked. He looked over at her, his expression blank. "You… weren't listening, were you?"

"We were wondering if it might be a good idea to take up battling as a career," Layla said. "After Cianwood, everyone knows us, and you can't deny that we've gotten pretty good at it. I mean, we defeated one of the most elite trainers in the region."

"That's an idea," Michael replied.

"And we all enjoy it too," the lucario continued.

"True. But I can't help but feel that it would be breaking my word to Alaina's parents," Michael said. "I promised them that I wouldn't use her like that."

"But if I want to do it, then that's that," the latias said. "There are lots of legendaries out there that battle - Raiden for example. And it's not like we're being forced to, or used in any way. I thought it was a lot of fun."

"It was," Charlotte said. "So what do you say?"

"I… don't know," Michael said. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. Battling isn't exactly a stable source of income, no matter how good you are."

"Doesn't need to be 'stable' at all," Layla said with a shrug. "Given our win rate, we could still knock down more than any job in a lab coat could get you. Not to mention we'd get to travel again."

"I'll think about it," he stated.

"Which is another way of saying don't count on it," the lucario murmured.

"Hush," Alaina said. "Anyways, how was Alex?"

"Good," Michael answered. "Wanted for me to tell y'all he said hey."

"How's the new job coming along for him?" the latias continued.

"He's loving it. Said he kinda misses his time in the force, though."

"How could he miss all that?" Charlotte asked. "All that violence and death. What kind of a person would _prefer_ that lifestyle?" Michael shrugged.

"Samuel and Thomas, for starters. And it's not about that. No one signs up to watch their friends die, or to be shot at. We wanted to make the world a safer place, and we did."

"Thomas is staying back too?" the braixen asked. "But it's all done… I mean, Samuel I can get, with that group he's training or whatever, but Thomas?"

"There's still a ton of shit he could do up there. Hell, he could go down Hawkins' path and lead a squad himself if he wanted to. They're always in need of people, especially Reapers." As for him and the others, though, four years had been enough.

Truth be told, though, he wasn't so sure about having made the world a safer place, or if such a proposition was even a possibility anymore. A nuclear disaster had narrowly been avoided, and countless smaller uprisings had been quelled within the confines of the regions ever since Stone's death. But what both Hoenn and Kalos had done was nothing short of despicable. Both regions had all but completely confiscated firearms from their citizens. Rather than observe the very cause of the revolutions - their own oppressive policies - they further restricted the population. At this point, he didn't even care. He hoped every decent person moved out of those two regions and left the degenerates behind to rot away.

Kanto was a different story. The country seemed to be unable to reach a conclusion as to what to do politically for the last few years. With thousands of their own killed in all these conflicts, and with all hopes of avoiding another similar war within their own boundaries, everyone wanted to tread lightly, leading to several stalemates on important issues. Nobody wanted to be the instigator to set off another chain of violent events. Politicians became more reasonable, much quieter, and much more level-headed as a result.

Whatever happened there wasn't their main concern. No, Johto's priority was within its own borders now. Careful monitoring of the known members of the Assembly was of utmost importance, as well as dealing with the innumerable protests that were taking place throughout Goldenrod. Michael wasn't exactly rooting for their success, either. After what had happened to leftists as a result of Douglas' purges, they had struck back with a vengeance. Never mind the fact that this was the very government that had fought to protect them all around the world. There would be no making them happy.

And it was somewhat sad. Among the large amount of causes that they supported - most of which Michael detested - he hoped that maybe the law might be amended to recognize pokémon and human marriages. But that was just a single step in what these people wanted to accomplish. They would never be satisfied until they had created another socialist state. They couldn't let that happen. As much hatred as the Assembly held, they had been right about that. The generalization did not apply to rational people, but those individuals standing outside the Capitol right now… they were anything but decent. Screaming at police, all those burning effigies, vandalizing public property - all in an effort to 'make their point known.' They wouldn't stand for any of this. It had to be their way or no way at all.

While they were cleaning up, Ver entered the apartment, slightly winded from her flight. "Dammit, I missed breakfast?" she asked.

"In the microwave," Alaina chimed as she placed the dishes in the cabinet.

"Awesome. I'm starving," the flygon said. Michael headed to the couch, where he flipped open his laptop, going about checking his email. As he did so, Elise hopped up beside him, stretching out and laying her head into his lap, effectively preventing him from being able to get much done.

"You couldn't possibly be any more in the way, could you?"

"Mmm, nope," she said with a smile. He rubbed along her neck while attempting to scroll through the list of unchecked messages. Mostly spam or advertisements; nothing interesting aside from some ads from a few gun sites he regularly visited. As he signed out, the homepage appeared once again, showing a picture of Lance. Giving a small smile, the veteran trainer was waving off to the side. But what was more interesting was the title of the article. _No freaking way…_ "Lance retired?!" Elise asked.

"It… seems like it…" After over thirty years of holding the position, the summary stated, the former champion had felt that it was time for him to move on, opening the path for a younger trainer to take his place. For a moment, the regret had resurfaced - the fact that now, he and the girls would never get to accomplish what they had wanted to during their campaigning days. It had always been their goal to face off against him, but now that was an impossibility.

"So then there is need for a new champion," Layla said. "Michael… this could be our shot!"

"Layla…" He rolled his eyes.

"You know just asa well as the rest of us that those kids that come won't be nearly what he was! We'd mop the floor with them if you'd just let us!" Before long, a large tournament would be held in order to seek a new bi-regional champion. Trainers from all across both Kanto and Johto would compete for the position, and countless battles would be waged to determine the suitable replacement. Members of the elite four and the gym circuit would also be likely to show up; it was truly a once in a lifetime event. And it would start soon.

"What do we have to lose?" Ver asked. "I mean hell, worst case scenario is that we don't win, come back, and you'll be free to work in a lab if that's what you want. But this is our chance to get back in - to really do it this time!" The others agreed, and seeing himself outnumbered in the matter at hand, Michael finally relented.

"Alright, alright - fine. You all wanna go out there and give it a shot? I'm not gonna hold you back. But our victory last time? That was a local tournament. Leo was good and all, but now we'll be facing a whole bunch of teams just like him. Don't be surprised when we come back."

If he was being honest with himself, part of the idea of getting back into battling did excite Michael. Well, as close to excite as anything could anymore. But another part of him wanted nothing to do with a public life. He wanted to stay back, to avoid the masses as much as he could. But the girls wanted to polar opposite. He simply figured that once they got there, his team could have their fun, relive their fantasy of winning it big, and come home once they were defeated again.

 **. . . . .**

That night, he lay in his bed, mostly fooling around on his phone. He'd already taken something to help him sleep, but it seemed to be doing anything but its intended purpose. Charlotte shuffled beside him, catching his attention. "Not asleep yet?" he asked.

"How could I be when you're just tapping away at that screen?" the braixen asked.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," she said. "Not really tired anyways."

"Ah."

"Hey, if you want," she said, turning around to face him, "we could tire ourselves out." To further express her point, she trailed her hand down his stomach, making her way lower.

"Not tonight."

"Why not?" she asked. "It's been awhile…"

"I just don't feel like it," he replied.

"Fine," she said with a sigh. She cuddled up to his side, laying her head into the crook of his neck. "Don't suppose you want to talk about it? Why you've been like this…"

"Not particularly."

"So then you're just gonna keep me in the dark about it? I'm here for you. We all are. But… you won't say a thing."

"There's nothing to talk about," he said, becoming increasingly agitated.

"Yes there is. I want _you, and—."_

"I told you," Michael interjected, "I'm not doing it tonight."

"That's not what I meant," Charlotte said. "I want the Michael that I fell in love with…"

"I'm right here… I'm still the same." But despite his words, he knew the truth. Part of him had died back during his first tour. That part… no, those _parts_ … had been buried.

 **. . . . .**

Michael pushed the double doors open, stepping outside into the courtyard. But it looked different from how he'd remembered it. The earth was charred, and the atmosphere devoid of anything natural. But despite the destruction, people were moving up and about. Militants geared for war, each going about their way, with none of them paying him any attention. _What the hell is going on?_ He experimentally walked towards one: a rough looking man in his forties. He seemed to stare straight through Michael, and he only kept walking over towards some similarly uniformed individuals.

"That was Vlad," a voice behind him said. "Never before had I seen someone so devoted to the cause. He taught me so much over the years - he had become both a mentor and a friend to me. He died in the blast." Michael turned around, finding the source. Douglas was standing there. Michael balled his fists, readying himself like he had years ago. "Calm down. I'm not here to fight. That's already been done."

"How the fuck… I killed you!"

"That you did. You killed them _all_ ," the terrorist said, motioning towards the countless men before them. "See that man over there? His face ring a bell?" Stone was pointing towards a light blonde-haired man - fairly young looking.

"…Derrick was his name… Derrick Rossler…" The trafficker that had personally had a hand in the Hoenn Massacre, and one of Michael's first kills.

"Yep. Funny thing - you all have the audacity to call us barbarians. We did what needed to be done. But setting a man on fire just because you wanted to? That's some fucked up shit, even for me." The Reaper remained silent. "What? No response? Figured. I wouldn't be proud of that one either, had I sworn to uphold justice."

"Why are you here? How the fuck did you crawl out of hell?"

"I'm always here," Douglas said. "I'm a part of you. And I'm here because it's important for you to understand just what it is that you've done."

"Oh I fully understand what I've done," Michael said.

"No you don't. In fact, you've got absolutely no _clue_ what you've done. All these people before you are on your hands, but they are not the only ones. These just happen to be the ones you directly got killed. That doesn't include those like Raptor, or all the revolutionaries that were purged after you did what you did here."

"That's… not on me… That's not my fault…"

"You set the chain of events in motion," said Douglas. "Man up. Don't try to deny your hand in all this. This is all your doing - aside from these people, every death afterwards is on you. Had I finished… only the right people would have died. But because of you, the left has regained its stronghold. All those conservatives purged, all those babies aborted - that is because of you. That's your legacy."

"Fuck off!" Michael yelled.

"Struck a nerve, did I? But prove me wrong."

"You were going to massacre tens of millions of people! I did right by putting you in the dirt!"

"A small price to pay for what would have been accomplished. But now… it will fall on your all's hands. They are sharpening their weapons, kid. Their education systems already brainwash the youth; their puppets in the press vilify all you stand for. They will fight you with everything they've got. You think you know what fucking war is? You've got no idea. But one day you will find out."

"Then let them come. You may have been the minority in your country, but they've got no chance in ours. We will drive them out."

"No," Douglas said, "you won't. None of you have the will to do what it takes. You will fold, trying to be the 'better men,' all while the left takes over."

"We will never fold," Michael said.

"Maybe not - only if you get the fuck with the program. But despite what you did… I've got faith in you all. The time will come, and you will know what to do." He turned around, and just like that, all the other militants stood still. An eerie silence permeated the smoke-filled air as Michael stared at the terrorist. Stone casually look over his shoulder, flashing a carefree grin. "I'll be seeing you around, Michael." His vision slowly faded, being replaced by the sight of his ceiling.

 **. . . . .**

There was no getting out of it at this point. He'd already encouraged the idea, and the girls weren't about to let him forget that. They all stood around the table as Michael went through the Indigo League's homepage. Among the beautiful pictures of the surrounding scenery, or the ferocious ones of memorable battles that had occurred within, was the bold link that would be clicked on by thousands of trainers. The registration for the tournament.

If they did so happen to win, this would more than suffice for employment. Being the champion of a region was a seven figure job. He disliked the idea of having cameras all around him though, especially given these past few years. But that would just come with a job like this. He filled in the required fields: his full team, name, and valid contact information. "All you gotta do now is hit confirm," said Layla with excitement in her voice.

"I can hardly believe it!" Elise said. "We're gonna take on the league again!"

"But things will be different this time," the flygon reminded her. "They won't be able to do a thing. We're taking that spot." _Yeah, if only it was that simple._ But he couldn't back out. He clicked the button.

Throughout the rest of the night, everyone seemed to be in high spirits over what was to come. Or rather, the girls were. Michael headed back towards the bedroom, shutting the door behind him as he opened the drawer within the nightstand. Several shot glasses were neatly positioned within, and the bottle was underneath the bed. He poured the liquor into the glass and quickly downed it, only for Alaina to come in right then. "Michael…"

"What? Not like I can get drunk easily anyway."

"That doesn't mean you need to try."

"I'm one drink in. I'm fine."

"Fine?" She was clearly taken back by his choice of wording. "You're anything but fine. This tournament will be the first thing you've really done outside ever since you finished with the Reapers. You don't speak to us about it… Arceus, there's a loaded gun hidden in just about every corner of this house. You call that fine?"

"I think you're exaggerating more than a little bit," he said.

"Really?" The latias snatched his pillow up, revealing the HK45 underneath. "Yeah, seems like it. You're paranoid."

"I'm prepared."

"For what?" she asked. "An army? You need serious help. Why do you keep fighting it? There is absolutely nothing wrong with reaching out. You've said it yourself time and time again - you couldn't have accomplished anything that you had over those tours without the help of countless others. And yet now look at you…"

"Did you come back here just to fuss at me?" he asked. Though she was clearly offended by such a statement, she shook her head.

"No. I came back here because no matter how much you try to isolate yourself, the absolute last thing you need is to be alone. So stop acting like everyone's being a bother when they're just looking out for you."

"I don't need anyone's help," he said as he attempted to pour another glass. However, before he could do so, Alaina telekinetically snatched the bottle away and set it on the dresser behind her.

"Listen to me," she snapped. "The longer you put this off, the more damage you do to yourself. I'm not going to let you sit around and make things worse. That's why I think this little trip will do you well. You need to get out of this house - out and around other people again. What you're doing now is anything but beneficial for you."

"You know what? I don't need someone to tell me what's best for me. You all need to cool it."

"I'm not going to give way on this," Alaina responded. "I will not sit by idly while you destroy yourself. What kind of a mate would I be if I did?"

"I just want you all to get off my back about this bullshit. This conversation is over."

"Whatever. It may be for now, but this matter is _far_ from over. We're all going to the league, we're going to have a good time, and you're going to snap out of whatever this is. Understand?"

"Sure." He rolled his eyes as she turned around. Before he could do anything else though, she grabbed the bottle and shut the door behind her. _Really? What the fuck?_ He reached over and grabbed the pillow, tossing it back over the pistol. _Come in here and start raising hell with me…_ _what was that all about?_

This silly issue had been one that they had been bringing up for over a year now. Most days he could get by without having to hear it, but once again, one of the girls had deemed it absolutely imperative to start the same exact conversation - begging him to get some sort of therapy. It was actually starting to piss him off. They meant well and all, but he knew his own mind - he didn't need someone else trying to fix it. The Reapers all knew what may come from their service; death of close ones was an unfortunate risk associated with their jobs. Over time, the nightmares would recede. But letting someone that he didn't even _know_ into his head to try and fix a so-called "problem?" That was a load of bullshit. If there even _was_ a problem, then it was something that he could handle.

But he would admit one thing: he probably did need to get out of the house more than what he was doing. Maybe this little campaign of theirs could provide him with some excitement once again. And hell, this would be the closest opportunity they would ever have to triumph over the league. For a team with their skill, there really wasn't a reason not to at least give it a shot - the very ring that sat on top of his dresser was a testimony to that. Really, there wasn't much of a doubt that he had about the girls being able to do this. Whether or not he even wanted what would become of such a victory was another matter entirely. He'd already come close to punching a reporter a time or two. If they won, then that would be something that he would have to tolerate even more.

Eventually he decided to leave the confines of the room, finding everyone else sprawled out throughout the living room as they watched television. It was a documentary on ancient pokémon, mostly consisting of members of the fossil species. "Glad you decided to join the family," Alaina said. He remained silent as he took the one open spot on the couch. "What? No comment?"

"Alaina, are you just determined to start some type of argument today?"

"Oh the argument has already been said - time and time again. But as always, you won't want to hear it, so you'll just tune me out rather than actually consider my point."

"Arceus, I'd appreciate it if you could just not do this for one day."

"And I'd appreciate it if both of you shut up so we could hear," Veronica said, before turning the volume up. But as they fell silent, being drowned out by the noise of the television, the awkward tension remained throughout the room. The very tension that had been present time and time again for three years.


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N:**

 **I told you all that this story was far from over. Here's another chapter for the second segment. As usual, reviews are greatly appreciated, as they provide me with feedback and help the story a lot.**

 **Thank you once again to Orthros for the proof reading services, as it's a tremendous help. You can swear up and down that your work is devoid of errors, but I promise you that until you have another set of eyes confirm it, it's riddled with mistakes.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"The soldier above all others prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war."**

 **-General Douglas MacArthur**

* * *

 **Ch. 33 - The Return**

Two days remained before their trip to the Indigo League. Only Michael was up currently, going about gathering the necessary ingredients from the refrigerator. Doing so reminded him that if they wanted to eat for these next few days, then he would need to go grocery shopping. They'd have enough for breakfast at least, especially considering he wasn't even eating the same thing. The girls would likely want either bacon or sausage paired with toast and generally eggs. Looking at the time, it would still be another twenty or so minutes until anyone else was up.

He tossed the spinach leaves into the blender before adding the berries and protein powder. A little bit of milk, and he started the machine. It whirred to life, and he stared silently as the blades shredded everything in their midst. All that remained was a thick, purple liquid. It never tasted good.

"Hey…" He looked over into the hallway, finding Alaina floating there.

"You're up early."

"I could say the same about you. But then again, you're almost always up, aren't you?" she asked. He didn't answer, but she was right. Sleep was something that he got on a much less regular schedule.

"Old habits I guess."

"Maybe." She floated closer towards him, watching as he poured the smoothie into a glass. "Look… I was thinking about the other day… and I'm sorry that I instigated an argument. I wasn't trying to make things difficult, but… I kind of did…"

"I'm sure I wasn't exactly easy to get along with either…"

"It's just… we worry about you."

"I know," he answered. He raised the glass to his lips, and drank half of it in one shot. That's how he always did it in order to avoid the not-so-pleasant taste that came with it.

"…Why do you drink that?" she asked in slight disgust.

"It's good for you," he replied.

"Good for making you throw up." She wasn't so far off on that one…

"Anyways, I'll need to run to the store before long. Probably after the others have eaten."

"Alright, well I'll stay back and get things in order for the trip. There's still a lot to get done. Maybe one of the others might tag along though?"

"Okay. How do steaks sound tonight?" Though he couldn't bake worth a shit, he had become pretty good at grilling.

"That sounds lovely," she said as she got the dishes ready for her and the others' meal. As he finished up his own, he watched the latias go about making the preparations. Such a beautiful creature living casually in his house. Most people could count themselves lucky to ever even see a legendary in person. And here he had one making the rest of his family breakfast.

It wasn't too long before the others were up. All of the girls were even more cheery than usual in light of the upcoming tournament. Michael even had to admit that he was anticipating it, and seeing them in such excitement was weighing positively on his own mood. Looking into the kitchen, he saw Alaina making french toast today. She always managed to knock that out of the park, but he rarely ate it. The sugar content alone was something to fear. But they seemed to enjoy it, so he wasn't about to ruin that for them.

"I've noticed," Layla began after she had finished, "that normal-types are becoming more mainstream in professional battles."

"I guess that makes sense. They don't have a lot of weaknesses," Elise said.

"Yeah. Often times they're fast, too," the lucario replied. "Anyways, ice-types are also on the rise."

"Well that's just great," Veronica huffed. "Really."

"Eh, we've got enough coverage so that you or Alaina shouldn't have to worry about them," Layla continued.  
Most of their conversation focused on the upcoming matches, or pokémon that they might have to face once the battling began. Michael found it pretty funny that his pokémon were doing more planning for the tournament than their own trainer was. But honestly, at this point, they knew just about as much as he did about battling, having actually been the ones doing it all these years. Experience was the best teacher, and they had had plenty of that throughout their time together.

He stood up and pushed his chair in, ready to run the errand he needed to. "I'm heading to the grocery store. Shouldn't be too long." Michael grabbed his truck keys from the counter before turning towards the door.

"Wait up," Ver said. "How about we fly there instead. It's been awhile since we did that…"

"I'm gonna be coming back with bags."

"So? I can carry stuff." He thought it over for a second, but eventually tossed his keys back where they had been before.

"Alright. Let's go." The two of them went outside, and she excitedly got on all fours, ready for him. Michael took his place on her back, and she wasted no time in taking off. The long-forgotten rush had come back in full force as he held on tightly. Looking around revealed that they weren't the only people in the skies. Then again, though, this was a perfect morning for doing such a thing, and dragon riding was incredibly common here in Blackthorn. Some people opted for it over a vehicle at all, even if they could afford one.

Once she had reached the height that she wanted to, Veronica slowed to a lazy glide, causing for the sound of the flight to die down. The dragon looked over her shoulder, making her intent of conversation clear. "You think you're gonna miss it?" she asked.

"Military?"

"Yeah." It was a question that he had been unable to answer himself.

"…I'm not sure," he replied. "I loved it. I loved being in that environment. Having all those people just like me around." He gazed out towards the mountains on the horizon - the mountains where he was made into what he was. The birthplace of all Reapers. "I loved putting an end to that group of people. Killing had to come with it, but it was still the right thing to do, and it's made life so much better for countless people."

"I hated that part," Ver said. Her first kills still stuck with her, though they had been something she had tried hard to forget. But, as she had mentioned in the past, you could never forget the feeling of a man's throat being shredded out by your claws. "It's horrible. I had to, but… it was horrible. But I'll still miss it. My job was rewarding. My purpose was to save lives, and that's way more fulfilling than taking them."

"Sometimes to save them, you have to take others," Michael said. "Killing is an unfortunate thing, but not bad. Defending your comrades, defending the innocent… those are good things. And if they're gonna live, then the enemy has to die."

"No," Veronica stated, "killing is still bad. I did a bad thing back when the base went down. All killing is innately bad."

"So you would rather them have killed you and the girls?"

"Well… no…" she admitted. "But that doesn't make it good. It just… is what it is. I'm glad my job didn't focus on it."

"They were anything but innocent. A bunch of animals. It wasn't murder; it was doing what needed to be done," Michael said.

"Never said it was murder. But it's still unfortunate that it had to be that way. People weren't meant to kill others."

"You're right," he stated. "They weren't. But that's the world we live in. We have to make people into killers so that the majority of people don't have to be."

"Yeah," she continued. "I just don't think that it still makes it a good thing, exactly. I would still kill those people again if I had to. One of them almost shot Alaina. But at the end of the day… that was a human. He was a child once. Hell, he is still somebody's child. Even Douglas was a kid at one point. I imagine that's something that still hurts Steven."

"It has to be," Michael said. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like for the former champion to see all these news outlets - all those people celebrating for your son's death. He felt bad for the older trainer, but it was either Douglas or the world. He had no problem with making that choice, but he did still retain one regret from that dreaded, now-quarantined, island.

Ver began to descend towards their grocery store of choice, and they found that it was mostly empty at this time of the morning. She impacted the road in front of the store softly, and the two of them walked inside. Michael grabbed a shopping cart from near the entrance, and began his usual route, which started with the aisles and circled around the refrigerated portion of the building. Today's trip shouldn't be as long as usual, but that didn't mean that he'd walk out without a good bit of stuff. No, feeding six people for two days required an impressive amount of food. It was his largest monthly expenditure, and definitely something he had missed from the military. All of it was free back then, but now it was all on him. Of course, the types of food he kept stocked in the house did anything but help. But with how much the family ate, on top of the other bills, getting a good job wasn't going to be an option before too long. The expenses were what kept most people limited to one or two pokémon each. It simply was too costly to maintain a huge team, unless of course you were a professional trainer and could battle for a living. Arceus, how many times he'd heard the request from Layla or Ver to go back into that arena. And now they were about to do just that.

And who knew? If he found his spark for it again, maybe they might just decide to stick with it - even if they didn't win. Of course, if they _did_ win, then that would be a very good option for his team. They had it in them, that was for sure, and if they could secure a seven figure job doing what they loved, then everything would work out ideally. It probably _would_ be good for him, too, to associate more with other people.

He grabbed two bottles of the marinade and set them into the buggy, moving on to the meat section. "Wait, are we having steak tonight?" Ver asked.

"Yep."

"Hell yeah," she said. As he picked out two large packs, he tried to ignore the people looking at him to his right. It was hardly a secret as to who he was now; ever since he had killed Ethan and stirred up the locals… and had killed the man who nearly brought the world to war… most people across the nation knew who he was. Being that he was a Reaper, he detested that fact. But it wasn't like they could wipe everyone's memory. It just had become something that he had to live with, albeit very carefully. He'd refused any interviews and never spoke of his past business, but he still couldn't help but feel that everything he did was under a microscope.

He tried to put those thoughts out of his mind as he continued through his route, heading to the frozen section. Mainly Charlotte's and Elise's stuff. "Come on," Ver huffed, "the last thing that braixen needs is more sweets. She's already hyper enough as it is…"

"I got you your stuff. Let Char have hers." Just when he had figured that he was just about done here, Michael remembered one other thing that needed replacement. Ver noticed immediately which section he was heading towards and grabbed his arm.

"Hey…" she said softly, "please don't. You don't need it…"

"Let me go Ver. Arceus, you're acting like I'm a damn child."

"No… that's not at all what I'm doing. You don't need that stuff. Not when you've got us. So just… please don't. For me." He didn't know how a seven foot tall flygon managed to be as endearing as she was, but it had its effect all the same.

"Fine," was all he said. She placed a single clawed hand on his shoulder as they proceeded to the checkout line. Since it was as early in the morning as it was, there were only two registers currently open, each with a small line. Michael picked the shorter of the two and waited there. He knew most of the store's employees by this point, so it shouldn't come as much of a surprise for them to see him there. But he still found himself ignoring the staring from other customers.

He'd wished that things had worked out differently. It wasn't fair how people close to him were always getting hurt or killed. It was a possibility with military… but the vast majority of people in Johto's forces were absolutely fine. Hell, a good percentage of them never even saw a firefight. But it seemed that the Twenty-Fifth just attracted bullets. All of them had been shot, including Hawkins that one time, and he wasn't even supposed to be anywhere near combat. Not to mention the two that now were buried over in the endless sea of white graves. It seemed as though his squad was cursed to be miserable.

"Sir?" the cashier asked. Michael snapped back to attention, noticing that there was a line formed behind him. He quickly began to unload his items, hoping to speed up the process that he had unintentionally stalled. "Find everything okay?" the older man asked.

"Yeah." As the items were scanned, the price climbed up, and Ver tried to avoid looking at the number. As though she had something to feel guilty about. This was what came with having a team this large, and one that required a larger diet at that.

Once he had all the items bagged and back in the buggy, they left the store. Seeing as to how they had nine filled bags, Michael was beginning to regret the decision to not bring his truck. But Ver had insisted that she could do it. "It won't be a problem," she assured him as she slipped her arms into the plastic handles. "I won't drop 'em." Hopefully she wouldn't, considering there was over Ᵽ150 worth of food dangling from her arms.

Once the two of them had arrived back at the apartment, the others helped him put the food away, even though Charlotte may have wanted to get into the ice cream a little bit early… Minor chores dominated most of the rest of the morning as everyone got things ready for their trip. Michael had notified his landlord of the trip, who, in addition to his neighbors, agreed to come by and check on things from time to time. He was uncertain of going anywhere unarmed: the Indigo League was a strictly gun-free zone. But that was just something that he would have to deal with.

Throughout the miscellaneous things that needed to be tended to, Michael's phone vibrated in his pocket. _Probably Alex,_ he thought. His friend had recently inquired about getting either a Glock 17 or 19 for his own go-to 9mm. While Michael personally sided with the latter of the two options, he had told him to go with whatever he could get the best deal on. They'd both work about the same, though the 19 was more concealable and portable. He'd recently been sending him several messages about the topic.

After he finished packing, he took his usual spot on the couch before flipping on the television. It wasn't surprising to see more images of protests, or to hear foreign politicians trying to vilify Johto's political landscape as evil or unjust. Nothing new there. _Why can't you stupid fucks stay in your own socialist shitholes and mind your own damn business?_ he thought. Johto was a wonderful place, and the only ones who were starting trouble anymore were those fucking protestors that were marching through the cities. Hell, if the government would just let him and the others do a little crowd control, they could make damn well sure those lowlifes thought twice before crawling out of their holes.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by the phone ringing in his pocket. _What Alex? Dammit, it's not a big deal!_ Fumbling through his pocket, he withdrew the phone, only to find the name displayed to be one that he least expected. _What the…_ He promptly answered it. "Hey…"

"Hey. You didn't answer the text."

"My bad… What's up?" Michael asked.

"I wanted to know if you were available at eight tonight." The former Reaper thought it over quickly. They'd be finished with dinner at that time, so he would be mostly in the clear.

"Yeah, I should be. Mind telling me what's up?" he asked.

"Great. Video chat at that time. I'll fill you in then." The phone hung up, leaving Michael to wonder what had happened… or why Commander Hawkins had called him in such a manner.

 **. . . . .**

"Hmm… looks like we can see the roster now," Layla said as they crowded around the computer. Indeed, the League had posted a list of all the people that had signed up for the tournament. And the competition was looking intense. Among the top listed participants were over a dozen gym leaders and Elite Four members from across both Johto and Kanto. But despite the challenge presented, the girls were pumped to face it. Even Michael was - but only after seeing one specific name. _How did I know?_ Like a moth to a flame, he couldn't resist - not with an opportunity like this. Leo was also in the list of those competing.

"Guess we get to cut him down to size again," Layla said.

"We might not even battle him this time around," Michael said.

"Aww, don't crush my dreams," the lucario replied. "Besides, if he does what he usually does, and we kick as like we normally do, then we'll probably face off against him somewhere down the line."

"I'm ready for it. That was the most fun I'd had in a long time," Veronica said.

"How long we should be there?" asked Elise. "You know… if we don't lose, that is…"

"Says here that all the battles should take about a month to complete. Seems like we need to battle every two or three days…" The girls were capable of a lot, no doubt, but that was a tough schedule for anyone. However, all teams involved would be doing something similar, so everyone should be equally exhausted throughout the process.

Michael found his own name pretty high up in the list and scrolled the cursor over it. Curiously, he clicked it, and the page linked to his personal trainer information. _Wow, that's neat._ A full list of his registered team appeared, as well as all of the badges that he had collected. A few statistics here and there, including two failed attempts at the Indigo League. That still hurt. "Looks like we can check out anyone's team and past battling history," he said. That would be some good information to study up on.

"Perfect. Let's get to work," Alaina replied.

So for the better part of an hour, they all searched through as many teams as they could, finding only themselves and Leo Browning to possess a legendary, which was a huge advantage. Well, there was one girl that had a shaymin, but that hardly counted. Michael would have continued looking, too, had he not noticed the time. It was 7:52.

"Damn, I need to take the laptop for a minute," he said.

"Why?" asked Charlotte. "We've only covered like half of the participants."

"I'm going to video chat the others. They all agreed to do it at this time, and I need to check up on them."

"Well that's a fair reason," Alaina said. "Tell them that we all said hi."

He went back to his bedroom and shut the door quietly. This would be the first time they had done a group chat like this since they had completed their service. Not that the Commander hadn't been keeping up with his boys, but speaking with all of them at once? Something had to be going on. Almost as though it was a mission briefing. That couldn't be true though; they were finished with the military. Well… Thomas and Samuel weren't, but everyone else was. Hell, Kevin wasn't even in the country anymore. Whatever was going on, though, he'd learn soon enough.

Eight o'clock rolled around, and just as expected, Michael was sent an invite to join the video chat. Clicking on it, he was quickly greeted with the Commander's and his five comrades' faces. "Good. Now everyone's here," Wesley said. Michael looked glanced over the others'. John was sitting on a balcony, with the sands of the coastline in his background. Thomas had done something that Michael had never seen him do before: he had shaved off his beard. "Damn, so there was a face under there the whole time…"

"Guess so," Thomas said, devoid of any sense of humor. _The hell?_

"How's everyone been lately?" John asked.

"Good over here," Alex answered. "Enjoying the beach?"

"Yep. The governor is a family friend, and he set me up with the place. The wife and I love it down here."

"Glad to hear it," Alex said, before addressing the entire group. "So what's all this about? Doesn't seem like this call was just for catching up…"

"Wish that it was," said Wesley. "Really do. But something serious has been going on, and… we need the Reapers." Everyone fell silent for a moment, likely trying to make sense of it all.

"You… what now?" was all John was able to ask.

"We've been asked to request all Reapers back to even the Eighteenth Squad. The army needs as many of you as possible. I know that you've all contributed more than your fair share for the country… but now… Johto needs you once again. She needs us all."

"What the hell is happening?" Kevin asked. "And on top of that, you wait until I get settled down outside of your country to ask for something like that?!"

"I know it's sudden. But we just began to connect the dots. It seems like Douglas was right about one thing: they are coming. It took us a year to realize it, but it's clear as day if you keep up with the times. They grabbed ahold of that tragedy and have used it to demonize the way we run things over here." There wasn't any denying that; watching the news for two minutes could relay that much information to anyone.

"And we care about what other countries think for what reason?" asked Kevin. "They could be a bunch of warped fuckers, but our job was to protect Johto."

"And that's what we need to do," Wesley answered. "Foreign politicians set things in order almost directly after the events with Douglas. In fact, they were thrilled that they had the opportunity to advance their causes. Secretary Stryker and I have been in conference lately, and he with the president. We went through Stone's records and found that he was fighting something else off - something that has already set up shop in our region as well." The thought of being dragged back into another ideological conflict was unsettling to say the very least, and mentally draining on top of that. Michael wanted no part in any of this; he had done his service. But, he remained in the chat to see what was going on.

"What are we up against?" asked Alex.

"An organization known as Team Delta has been doing some of the same things that Douglas did. Making money from all sorts of murky businesses just so they can influence politics. No explicit genocide this time around, but they are the ones responsible for forcing out ideals that they don't like in other regions. Like you said, Werber, that's not exactly our concern what happens in regions outside of Johto. It does come as a concern, though, when they manage to dump enough funding into a candidate's campaign to win him a seat in the senate."

"So they are trying to buy political power?" Michael asked.

"Looks like it. Senator Callahan ran his campaign on an independent platform back during the election. Word is that he's actually a socialist, and will try to utilize his position to shift the city left. All we know is that his nephew was caught accepting a large suitcase from a Hoenn ambassador. And that's just a single example. Countless spots are being bought - county elections, the lower courts - everything. They're trying to weasel their way in. If we stand by, then it's going to happen." Wesley remained silent for a moment, likely trying to put together his next words. Once they were spoken, Michael had wished that he'd never heard them. "I know it's a lot to ask, and I hate to be the one to ask it. But we need all the help we can get. Thomas and Samuel here are already in. I'm not going to think badly about a single one of you if you decline. That said, anyone that does join will have their salary doubled. and the benefit package was also expanded upon." After that, Kevin was the first to speak.

"Well shit, if that's the case, count me in." The initial pay was already pretty good with the Reapers, but double that amount? That was harder to pass up.

"…I'm sorry," John said quietly. "I don't know if I can do that to my wife. We just got settled down here. I can't just disappear again for another year without her agreeing to it. "

"I understand," the Commander said. "Alex? Michael? What are your thoughts?"

"I guess I'll give it one more tour. My parents will probably flip out, but one more go at it shouldn't hurt," Alex answered. "Any idea when we would start?"

"If you agree to come back, then we would need you within the week."

"Damn, that soon?"

"We don't have time to waste. We need to take care of these people before they establish more of a foothold in our country. Team Delta has brought organized crime wherever they've stepped, reasoning that their ends will justify their means. In their eyes, it doesn't matter that they're spreading drug markets wherever they step. We can't let that shit come back. Whatever the other regions want to do about it, that's up to them. But as for us, we're going to put an end to all their operations in Johto. All those protests that have been happening? Most of them are funded and coordinated by Delta. They're already here; we have to act now." At this point, Michael needed to give some sort of response. That also happened to be the last thing he wanted to do.

"I… don't know what the fuck to do," he eventually said. "The girls and I… we're supposed to start competing in the league in just two days… They're so excited for it… I _encouraged_ it. How can you expect me to take that from them just like that?" It would be cruel and unfair to even think about doing something like that.

"I can't expect you to do that," the Commander said, "but the country is in danger. It could be torn apart if we don't stop them. We don't have the right to ask any more from any of you… but yet it's come to that, and we need you all once again."

"You think Michael and I could have a word alone?" Samuel asked. That was a tad bit out of place, but the Commander nodded.

"Of course. Chances are we'll still be here when you get back." Curious as to what Samuel had to say, he left the chat, only to be invited to another moments later. With the image of the sniper being the sole thing on the screen, Michael was able to see more of his surroundings. Samuel sat in his bedroom back at base in the one recliner that was always in the corner. On the table, a Remington 700 had been disassembled, with the bolt removed and disassembled for cleaning. A Jewell trigger set also lay beside it, indicating that he had intended to modify the rifle to have an easier trigger pull.

"Looks like you've been busy with that," Michael flatly said.

"Yep. One of the new recruits' rifles started to fuck up, and here we are. Also needed to upgrade his trigger, so it's best to knock them both out while I've got the damn thing in pieces."

"Makes sense. So what's this about?"

"I thought it'd be best to fill you in on all this. The Commander wants us all back, of course, but I'm not gonna push you one way or another to make a decision. I want you to make the right choice for you, not because you're being asked to."

"Gotcha. So what's your take?"

"Well I'm contracted again for another four years anyways. Mainly teaching other Reaper trainees how to snipe. But I wanted back in on this fight."

"You gave up training others in safety? Why?" Michael asked.

"Same reason we signed up in the first place. We gave up safety then too. I felt that this was a fight worth getting into. They're gonna need as many stealth operatives as possible for what's about to happen."

"So why did you sign up this time?" Michael asked.

"Because I personally saw who these people are. Nicole and I decided to go to one of those stupid protests - just to see what it was like. Wasn't in uniform or anything. But this one was about the normalization of pokémon and human relationships. That's a cause I'm sure both of us can support."

"For sure."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't what we were expecting. I'd heard about them on the news and all, but… they were all but chanting war cries against our country. Everything we stand for, they'd love to tear it all down. The main speakers - anyone with fucking common sense could see through it. They listed off every single group of people that they felt were marginalized and said that this country - the same country that fucking killed the man that wanted to kill people like them - was the enemy to them. We are the bad guys. I don't know if any of them have the balls to touch a gun, but the people that Delta is working with under the table are willing to do whatever it takes. Just criminal scum."

"So we've got confirmation that Delta is behind the leftist protests lately?" Michael questioned.

"We do. Several of the speakers have been traced right back to this underground group. Drugs and prostitution are rampant through the team. This isn't about their political stupidity - even though they are pushing a pretty fucking antagonistic narrative. This is about taking them out before they build the exact same markets that Douglas was trying to create. Not in my fucking country. That's why I volunteered again."

"I understand."

"But… you've already given enough. And I don't want you committing to anything that's gonna piss off your pokémon. Just think it all through before making any choice, alright? They've all sacrificed a lot as well. It wouldn't be fair to ignore what they want in all this," Samuel stated.

"Truth be told," Michael said, "it's not fair to them to even be having this conversation. I gave them my word that we could go and do this. And now I'm being asked to snatch it away from them at the last minute."

"I know what you mean," Samuel said. "Nicole begged me not to do it. But… it's what we do."

"It's what we do? Disappoint the ones closest to us to save a bunch of people we don't even know?"

"Isn't that why you started in the first place?" Samuel asked. He had a point, but Michael was barely listening at this point. "All that shit that we stopped the first time? It's coming back. But this time it's not gonna be attacked by the press - it's gonna be covered up and supported. I can't stand by while that happens." Michael hated to admit it, but he was right. These types of people, just like Douglas, believed that they could do whatever they wanted in order to achieve their goal and it would all be justified. It looked like the terrorist had been right; the left had come.

"I'm just gonna sleep on it tonight," Michael said. "I'll… shit… this is gonna be a hard conversation to have…"

"It always is."

 **. . . . .**

The two lines stretched out as far as the eye could see. Off in the distance was a massive series of buildings, all surrounded by a barbed gate. Guard towers lined the border with armed men ready to shoot at a moment's notice. The light rain was pierced by the sharp spotlights that ran along the people, one of which overtook Michael's field of vision. He held up his hand to blot out the blinding light, which had left as soon as it came, ready to inconvenience the next person behind him. _Where am I now?_ he thought.

"Hoenn," said the familiar voice to his right. "You're in Hoenn."

"Great. You again."

"Yep. Me again," Douglas said. This time his voice lacked its usual authority; now it was morbid and foreboding. "You can't shake me boy. I'm in this for the long run."

"What is it now?"

"I want you to observe. Just like last time. I want you to understand what's about to happen. This is our future." A gunshot rung throughout the night, echoing across the entire base. Michael looked up and tried to trace the source, but no one else seemed concerned. "That's to be expected in a place like this," Douglas stated. "Just everyday life. I'm sure you'd get used to it."

"What is this place?" Michael asked. "And why are all these people here?"

"I think you already know the answer to that," the terrorist replied. "They thought differently. Each of them pissed off the government in some form or another. One of them may have made a comment about the dictator. A banned book here, a pocket knife there… The list goes on and on. Anyone that steps out of line will be punished. They'll end up here, and half of them won't ever make it out of this place."

"What?"

"Let me ask you this: do you think the government is concerned for their wellbeing? It isn't going to be uncommon for people to be worked to death. Starvation and disease are also going to be some constant companions. But hey, you saved Hoenn, right?" The line had moved forward a good bit, and now he could see the guards in the front as they checked each individual and sent them towards different destinations.

"What the fuck," Michael murmured. "Why is this happening?"

"Because I'm not here to stop it anymore. Delta is going to accomplish all of this. You can't stop it. I was close, too. I was going to send the root of the problem straight to hell. But you had to interfere."

"There had to be—."

"There was no other way!" Douglas yelled. Nobody around flinched, or even acknowledged their presence. "Don't you fucking get it?! It's over! You go ahead - go out there! Kill as many of them as you possibly can! But they are _everywhere_ now, and _you_ are the reason why!"

"But this hasn't happened!" Michael said. "Not yet!"

"It will," Douglas said. "I doubt any of you can stop it now. Delta is too far along now. It would take a miracle to get rid of them at this point. All you all had to do was nothing at all. But now countless millions will be ruled by tyranny for the years to come. Everyone that will ever stand in these lines can thank you for that."

"It's not my fault… I didn't do any of this," Michael said defensively.

"Maybe not directly. But the fact still stands that had you and Raptor not ruined everything that I had ever done, then this future wouldn't be a reality. You probably had good intentions. But even good intentions can ruin everything. Hell, those assholes in Delta probably believe they have good intentions. Most of them are nothing but pawns to those degenerates in charge. But when you get down to it, all that matters is what happens in the end. And _this_ is the end. Not just for my region, but for _all_ of them."

"It can't be… we _will_ stop it…"

"No you won't. You won't even be there. But I hope you enjoy that league of yours. At least, while it's still standing," Douglas said.

At this point, the two of them had nearly reached the front of the line. A pair of armored vehicles were parked on each side of the two lines, with each packing several soldiers, some with rifles. For each line was some form of administrator, who seemed to decide on the destination of each of the prisoners. One of the individuals in Douglas' line had been moved forward, escorted by a guard towards one quadrant of the labor camp.

"This is our thanks. We build the economy off of our own backs. We fight to protect our homes and our countries. But this is how the left returns the favor - by damning anyone who dares to oppose their despicable train of thought. The very region you saved is going to kill people like you, Michael. You should have let me finish. Now every one of us will suffer - every one of them," Stone said, motioning over his shoulder. Michael looked behind him… and couldn't see the end of the line. It stretched into the very horizon, as did the militants keeping watch. Tanks slowly crept in each direction, their thundering movements blotted out by the sharp cries of jets over head. "You gave them everything they needed - time and motivation. Now to them, the entire right wing is the enemy."

"That part is your doing…"

"Maybe. I share some blame too for failing to kill you."

"Next!" called out the admin. Michael quickly looked ahead, finding himself to be in the front of his line. He cautiously stepped forward. One uniformed individual came to speak something quietly to the administrator, who furrowed his brow and nodded. He motioned for the soldiers on the armored vehicle, three of which hopped off.

"What's going on?" Michael asked.

"End of the line for you and me," Douglas replied. "We were enemy combatants." One of the soldiers grabbed Michael's shirt. The former Reaper struck him in the face, quickly reaching for the holstered pistol at his side. As quickly as he had done so, the sound of rifles going off could be heard… and felt. Several holes appeared in Michael's chest, and the soldier that had grabbed him was dead, having been accidentally shot in the neck. He fell to the ground, joining Douglas in the mud as the daunting footsteps drew closer. "You don't… ever go down without a fight," Douglas murmured through his grit teeth. "You can't _ever_ let… them b-blot us out!" He snatched up the pistol that Michael had dropped, firing several rounds into the nearest enemy. His head was taken apart by the next rifle shot, and he remained motionless. Michael was kicked over onto his back, and he stared straight up as the camp administrator pulled out a 1911 from the inside of his pocket. The world went black as the gun went off.

He lunged forward in his bed, clutching his chest as his heart raced. His body was covered in sweat, but no bullet holes. _The fuck… was all that…_ Throwing the sheets to the side, he stood up and headed for the bathroom, leaving Veronica still asleep in the bed - asleep and oblivious to the decision that he was now wanting to make.

 **. . . . .**

Breakfast that morning was noisy, to say the very least, with each of the girls barely able to contain their excitement. After all, tomorrow would be the day that they boarded the plane. Only… this plane would be heading somewhere else. He had no idea how he was going to break the news, and the thought of doing so broke his heart every time. But this wasn't something that could be procrastinated on.

He had spoken with the Commander earlier that morning, and it had looked like John had agreed to serve again as well. All the others were waiting on his answer now. Waiting on him to crush the very dreams of the people closest to him. Michael knew that it had just been a nightmare; he wasn't a stranger to those at this point. But seeing the current global political climate, as well as hearing about Delta's growing influence, there was no denying what would eventually happen. It had already been happening in short steps - the skyrocketing taxes, promises to increase all manners of public spending and governmental programs, and the far leftist narrative that was constantly being pushed by the media and by the public education system.

They had done the right thing in killing Douglas - of that he was certain. That man had been willing to absolutely murder anyone that he didn't like all in the name of the greater good. He was ideologically consistent, even willing to purge the very people that worked under him, as well as himself. Ideologically consistent or not, though, he was an evil that needed to be dealt with. Michael didn't regret shoving that knife into the terrorist's chest for one second, but he didn't know that in doing so, he would give a new set of enemies the safety they needed to advance their own cause.

The media had praised Johto for its role in bringing down the radical right winged organization. After all, it meant that they didn't have to fear extermination. Of course, that didn't stop these regions - Hoenn, Kalos, and Unova in particular - from drifting further left, outlawing several tenets of ideals they disagreed with just like their right-winged counterparts. And now, Douglas' organization was no longer there to fight them off. The burden would now have to fall upon the Reapers to do just that, but only within the confines of Johto and likely Sinnoh. Of course, their greatest ally would probably have a similar attitude towards an organized group of criminals with an agenda infiltrating their political system. Any region that had a shred of decency needed to follow suit and rid themselves of these people. But sadly half of them would not only fail to do so, but would actually _support_ this group of morally bankrupt thugs.

But once again, their responsibly was solely to protect Johto itself. He needed to help do that with his comrades. He couldn't let them go to war while he stayed back and enjoyed a life of leisure. They had all sacrificed greatly by deciding to go through with this. It was just the nature of the job, and one of the reasons why it was difficult for members of special forces to maintain a healthy relationship.

One of the decorative pillows from the couch impacted the side of his head, snapping him out of his thoughts. Charlotte covered her mouth to try and stifle her laughter, having failed in her attempt to nail Alaina. He gave her a half-hearted grin, dreading the fact that the thing he was about to say would rip the very joy out of all of them.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **That kind of sucks, doesn't it? Anyways, I'm off for now. Until next time! Let me know your thoughts in the reviews! Additionally, if you've enjoyed reading this story, consider checking out my Mystery Dungeon story _Into Darkness_ _._**


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N:**

 **Not much to say here other than the fact that this is a pretty important chapter for a lot of reasons. Hope you all enjoy! Please consider leaving a review and voicing your thoughts.**

 **Special thanks again to Orthros for the proof reading services, as it's always a massive help.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"The first law of war is to preserve ourselves and destroy the enemy."**

 **-Mao Zedong**

* * *

 **Ch. 34 - A War of Change**

Michael laid back against the seat, skimming through one of the magazines that had been placed out in the lobby. Countless people were out and about, and outside of the large windows several planes were visible. Not the one that he was waiting for, though. The noise around him barely registered to his ears, his mind already occupied with how heartbroken the girls were. So much so that, for the time being, they actually preferred to be in their balls.

Alaina had spoken privately with him that night. She was a lot more understanding of his predicament, but still pleaded with him not to go for another reason entirely: she didn't want him back in that kind of environment. It had been a very heartfelt discussion - one that took hours at that - but he wouldn't back down. All this worrying about mental health was in vain, though, especially when there were _actual_ concerns for them to deal with. He needed to be back there with the others so that they could end the ideological turmoil that they had unknowingly allowed to rise. Eventually the latias gave in, albeit reluctantly, saying that she wasn't going to stop him but that it also wasn't fair to the others, or to him for that matter. But war never was fair.

The looks on their faces, though, when he had told them that horrible news. That would stick around for a long time. Of course, there was all sorts of arguing. He had been yelled at by more than one of them, that was for sure. The anger, then the crying - all from a promise broken. A promise that he desperately wanted to keep, and yet he couldn't bring himself to uphold it. Or even break it for that matter. But he had to. Everything they ever loved would be at risk if they didn't stop this disease before it continued to spread. It was already partially here, and it had already infected other regions to the very core. A nightmare it may have been, but it would be their reality if they did not destroy Delta.

 _Another fucking group of radicals,_ he thought to himself. They would get to topple drug markets all over again, as if their past work had been for nothing - like it had vanished into thin air. Not just that, though, but espionage for crooked politicians? It all sounded exhausting to even think about. He could hardly believe that he'd allowed himself to get sucked back into all this, but yet he couldn't bring himself to truly hate it.

There would be one good thing to come from all of this, though. Surely everyone would enjoy getting back together - both him and the girls. Michael would get to see his comrades once again, while the girls would be able to associate with the other Reapers' pokémon. But that didn't make up from what had been snatched away from them at the last minute. He just hoped that the others would come to be as understanding as Alaina was. He doubted they would be for some time.

The very plane that they were going to take had just been loaded with its final passengers - some of which would likely engage in the same challenge that his pokémon had been so eager to participate in. He made them all one promise in order to try to ease the mood: when this was all said and done, they _would_ challenge whoever the next champion would be. Granted, that wasn't even a remotely suitable substitute for what he had just taken from them. That guilt was on him and would be for a long time to come. But the shame of not showing up and leaving his comrades - all of which had similarly sacrificed - to fight in a war alone was something that he couldn't bear the thought of. It wasn't a fair choice to make, but Reapers often times had to make those sorts of decisions.

The intercom announced the upcoming departure of a flight to Lumiose. Why anyone from Johto would want to go there was beyond him. But then again, nobody in their right mind would sign up for what the Reapers did. And speaking of the Reapers…

The two officers in uniform that he had been waiting for had made their way into the waiting room. It was time to go.

 **. . . . .**

The familiar mountain range had come into view, as did the several other aircraft going to and from the rebuilt base, which had now been named after the Secretary of Defense who had personally seen to every single detail regarding reconstruction. Fort Stryker had become an even more impressive stronghold after the attack that had demolished it. Johto's military budget had increased once again, and the country had truly spared no expenses. The amount of guard towers, missile defense systems, and troops stored within had all but doubled. Everything had been rebuilt both bigger and better, a testament to the country's impressive military might. _Just let someone come and try that shit again_ , he thought as the Chinook descended towards the specified landing zone. Aside from Commander Hawkins, four of his comrades were standing outside, waiting for him. Everyone wore their uniforms, a reminder that now, he had once again entered an environment where things were no longer casual.

Upon exiting the Chinook, something else had caught his attention: Wesley had been promoted. Formerly the rank of lieutenant colonel, or commander, he was now a full colonel. But while that was a big deal for Hawkins, that could be an issue for the Twenty-Fifth squad. There could be a chance that he would not advise them anymore. For the time being, though, that wasn't the prominent concern. The two officers that had ridden with him had taken his bags, presumably to bring them to his room. That had served as a reminder to him - he may as well release his five pokémon so that they could be escorted there also. After exchanging salutes with them, Michael quickly removed the balls from his belt loop and did just that.

He wasn't expecting any sense of happiness when he took this action. But what surprised him was the fact that of all five of them, Alaina and Elise were the only two that even looked at him. Instead, they took notice of the situation and began to head towards the base. But as Layla passed the others, she stopped for a split second, then addressed Hawkins. "I hope you're happy, now that you've dragged us all back into this…"

"Layla," Michael said, clearly in disapproval. She only ignored him, going on her way with the officers towards their living quarters.

"No," Wesley said, "I understand. I'd be upset too, given their predicament." Yet the job needed to be done, and they were the only ones that could do it. Them and a dozen or so other similar teams that hopefully had managed to assemble once again. "It's great having you back, son. Only wish it was under better circumstances. Let's head inside - the others are waiting for us in the briefing room. After that we can get you ready for your new implants."

"Implants?"

"Yeah," John said. "They managed to improve the VFT. It's not going to be a collar anymore. Apparently it's in the form of a small insert of some sort into your ear. I'll be getting mine today too."

"Well I'm not envying you two. They hurt like a bitch for a day or so," Thomas said.

"Worth it though. You'll be able to understand all pokémon," Wesley said.

"Then what do we do about the others?" Michael asked.

"I'd hold onto them in case the new ones break, but other than that, they won't be needed. These are better in every way."

"So then I guess that's why the older models just went on the market then, huh?" Michael asked.

"You got it. And in maybe ten or so years, these will be available for the public too." He was admittedly glad to hear that he'd be able to understand pokémon so much easier after this procedure. Of course, the ones he cared about the most wanted nothing to do with him for the time being…

The inside of the base was just as impressive as the outside. It was clear that any attempts at another raid would never work again. Not just here, either: Johto had planned for all-out war should the threat become apparent. If only they'd been this prepared back then… then maybe things wouldn't have gone the way they had.

The group had made their way to one of the elevators, and Wesley hit the button. As they waited for the door to close, Michael spotted a group of both humans and pokémon, each in their respective uniforms, speaking without any issue. The pokémon among their group all wore the older model VFTs. For the time being, it looked like these newer ones were exclusive to special forces.

But what was more important was the fact that they all were laughing. Mostly privates - first class - from the looks of it. True, they could be dispatched into some form of combat… but it was increasingly unlikely. With this ongoing conflict, odds are they wouldn't have to worry about a thing. Ironically, they were employed to wage war, and yet they most likely would never understand what war actually was. It was messy, cruel, and destroyed you one way or another. Not laughter.

"Nate also wanted to speak with everyone," Wesley said as the elevator came to a halt. "Says he's got something that will interest all of you." Ever since the CIC and the army had collaborated to bring down Douglas, their alliance had been stronger than ever. In fact, the private organization was now doing most of their work with Johto, and if they carried an operation out, then they could expect Johto's troops to come with them. They also had several stations around this facility, as the Reapers had discovered during their third tour.

"Are they getting involved in the fight against Delta?" Alex asked.

"They already are. They helped us gather a lot of our intel, and since they are still technically part of Kanto, they have served as our eyes and ears over there. Off the books, of course," Colonel Hawkins replied.

"Yeah. Something tells me we're gonna be doing a _lot_ of stuff off the books this time around," Thomas said. With their new enemy so prevalent in the media, they wouldn't have the luxury of being as loud as they were back when they fought off Stone's organization. The thought of the terrorist having made an accurate call sickened him. But in the end… some people _would_ hate them for what they believed in.

And that wasn't to say that everything Johto supported was fine. Not by a long shot. He was counting down the days when his relationship would be considered normal - because it was. But if it took tyranny and entitlement to force a nation to change that perspective, then he wanted no part in it. So what if some people thought he was weird? The Reaper doubted that they'd have the courage to say it to his face, of all people.

The elevator came to a stop on the thirteenth floor. Wesley led them around the corner, and the large set of double doors stood in front of them. But Michael couldn't help but think about one other thing. "We aren't waiting on Kevin?" he asked.

"No. It'll be two more days before he shows up. We'll just fill him in once he gets here. Giovanni will have to return to Kanto tomorrow, so we can't hold this off. Barely could in time for you guys."

"Alright then." The doors opened on their own, and the group entered into the briefing room. A large series of tables surrounded a holographic display which could be controlled by the tablet held by Giovanni. Nathaniel sat to his right, and a few other CIC higher-ups. But they by far were not the only ones present. No; three other squads of Reapers and their respective commanders sat throughout the room. Instinctively, all members of Johto's military saluted both Michael and John. Not necessarily them, but that one medal that both of them wore from their actions three years prior. Even a general was required to salute the Star of Valor.

Soon after, everyone was seated, and the room fell quiet. With Wesley beside Giovanni, they both exchanged some silent words to one another, before the former Rocket leader handed the tablet to Hawkins. "Alright. Glad we could get as many of you to come on such short notice," Colonel Hawkins began. "By now, all of you have heard at least some of what's been going on. We're here to get everyone up to date with what we currently know and what our plans are." He tapped the tablet once, and the hologram sprung up a display. A symbol that they would come to loathe hovered before them: a circle enveloped a smoothly-drawn "D." The center of the letter was formed in such a way that a triangle was created by the blank space. The only color used in the symbol was blue.

"Team Delta is an organization that seeks to turn the whole world blue. They've already succeeded in three major regions so far. Kalos, Unova, and Hoenn - their country of origin - have all fallen in line with Delta's agenda. They were the main force that Douglas Stone was concerned with, and most of what he was fighting off. Now in his absence, they've grown significantly more powerful, and they're trying to continue their plans."

"This is a pressing concern for us as well," Giovanni said. "Delta has a much stronger foothold in Kanto than they do here. With that in mind, the CIC will have to focus most of their efforts in fighting them off in our own region. And we may need backup if they attack us with the law. I wouldn't be surprised if some of their politicians tried to outlaw our organization for opposing them."

"Don't worry," Wesley said. "You've got our number. We're always here to help you." He returned his attention to the dozens of Reapers in the room. "Now one thing to keep in mind before we get into any of the specifics: a lot of Team Delta is composed of activists. Young and misguided, but they aren't the enemy. The ones we're after are those up top - the ones that are colluding with organized crime lords of all sorts. Nathaniel and his crew confiscated over 15,000 kilos of cocaine around the border within the past few weeks alone. After questioning, we discovered that these cartels were connected to people that we believe to be on Delta's payroll. And that might not even be our biggest concern at the moment. There's an uncomfortable amount of our politicians who may be tied to that group. Point is that they're already here. But we're gonna have to speak a language that they comprehend - one that they'll get through their heads just fine. After we're done with them, Delta will never even think about stepping foot on Johtonian soil again.

"So here's how we're going to approach this. All squads will be deployed together, as you usually would be, but you will each be focusing on separate parts of the organization for these first few months. The Twenty-Seventh and Eighth will both be focusing on drug shipments throughout the eastern half, while the Twenty-Fourth will take on the west. Twenty-Fifth and I will engage in crooked politicians, and the Sixth will be attacking their primary moneymaker: the sex market. By specializing, we'll be a lot more efficient in bringing these worthless people down. Everyone should report to their commanders two days from now to receive briefings for your first missions," Colonel Hawkins concluded.

Not long after that, everyone was dismissed. Most of the Reapers did what they always did: stuck with their own squads and kept to themselves. That was certainly what the Twenty-Fifth was good at. The five of them remained close to Hawkins, who was talking something else over with Giovanni and Nate. Michael waited until they had finished discussing whatever they were before asking the question that had been on his mind ever since he'd gotten there. "How much longer will you be instructing us?"

"They've given me this tour," he answered, "maybe one more if we fail to shut them down this year. The Reapers always need to remain together in times like this. But after this is all said and done, I'll be commanding the brigade stationed over at Westbay."

"Well, guess that's to be expected," Alex said. The three of them that had not known before were disappointed to hear this, but with Hawkins' track record, it was clear that he would not remain a commander forever. This was a large promotion for him, and anyone would take it. But it still sucked for them, especially considering that now, they were all wrapped back up in this line of work. Surely another older, ex-Reaper would have the qualifications to command their squad, but none of them wanted another leader.

"I hate to leave you boys like this, but this'll probably be the squad's last time around. I'm surprised everyone even agreed to come back this year, to be honest. That's why I accepted the promotion," he said.

"Yeah, makes sense," Samuel stated. "Once we destroy Delta, I'm focusing on the trainees again." Not to mention Thomas would likely continue on his own career outside of direct combat as well. It was something that was bound to happen: the group breaking up. Hell, it was something that was already _supposed_ to have happened, but yet here they were for one more tour.

"I'm proud of the men that each of you became," Wesley said. "No doubt that all of you will succeed wherever you go after this - military or not. But right now, I need you all to do what you were made to do. So let's finish this year strong." Of course, he was preaching to the choir. It wasn't in a Reaper's nature to half-ass anything.

They had just about gone their separate ways when Nathaniel had decided to speak to Michael. "Don't go just yet. I've got something I want to show you." The CIC commander headed for the door, with the curious Reaper following behind him.

"What's all this about?" Michael asked as they took the elevator. He noticed that Nate hit the button for the second floor.

"We thought that everyone might be willing to come back," Nate stated. "It's not like you all to want to leave it, truth being told."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Be honest with yourself. Are you upset that you're here right now?"

"Yeah. I had to just disappoint the girls in a way that I can't even begin to describe…"

"But aside from that. Imagine that it was just you." Thinking it over, Michael had to admit it.

"Then I probably wouldn't have left in the first place."

"Exactly. Just like Samuel and Thomas," Nate said.

"That's a little different," Michael replied. "Samuel isn't college educated, so he doesn't have too many other places to go, and Thomas had always been going after a lifelong career in the military."

"They still chose to stay. And the rest of you were willing to drop everything just like that to come back."

"What are you getting at?" the Reaper asked. The elevator stopped, opening up to a small crowd of waiting people. The two of them got off, Michael not paying any attention to the salutes as they passed by.

"What I'm getting at is the fact that we knew that this group would probably be fully reunited, and we know how well you all did with a CIC partner. And you aren't the last, either - a lot of Reaper squads have been doing really well with our recruits. We train pokémon far better than most militaries, so that doesn't come as a surprise. Giovanni and I talked it over, and we felt that the Twenty-Fifth could use another partner."

Nate had led him by now to a training room, where pokémon were tasked with showing off their combat skills in battle. Soldiers stood along the sidelines as several different battles were waged. No trainers were present; everything was left up to the pokémon. The CIC commander motioned towards one in particular: a fight between a blaziken and a rhydon. The two of them weren't engaged in a conventional battle, but were rather fighting in a very close-quarters scenario. Instead of the large, rectangular field, a circle was drawn around the two of them - no more than five meters in diameter. The rhydon was doing its best to land a hit on its much more agile opponent, but it was coming up short each time.

"Which one?" Michael asked.

"That one," Nate said, pointing to the blaziken. "She's good, isn't she?" Just as he said that, the blaziken ducked under a harsh hammer arm attack, barely missing her head. Taking advantage of his momentary vulnerability, she responded with a hasty flamethrower. The attack barely did anything to the rock-type aside from burn him a bit, but he was caught off guard once again by the fire obstructing his vision. The blaziken kept her distance and unleashed a dark pulse, sending him sliding towards the edge of the circle. _What? Since when can a blaziken use a move like that?_ He wasn't the most experienced trainer out there by far, but that was more than a little strange to see. Several of the soldiers laughed as the male pokémon had nearly been forced out.

"This game is a really good training exercise," Nate said. "The purpose is to force them to resort to physical moves. Of course, Zaire doesn't like to listen…"

"Her name is Zaire?"

"Yep. She's a relatively new recruit, and she hasn't mastered her abilities. Not by far. But as you can see, she's more than capable of handling herself." With the battle not going in his favor, the rhydon unleashed a surprising move as well: thunder bolt. Before Zaire could attempt to dodge it, the wicked bolt of electricity surged through her body, making her stiffen up as her opponent slammed into her with a take down attack. The blaziken savagely impacted the ground, and a black mist surrounded her. _What the fuck?_ He'd seen this once before. And that was with _him_ , of all people. _It can't be…_

But his suspicions were confirmed. The image of the blaziken had faded completely, much to everyone's shock, including the rhydon. What was left was a zoroark. "Surprised?" Nate asked.

"…To say the very least," Michael muttered. "Is this some sort of a sick joke?"

"What?" Nate asked.

"So he's just replaceable, like that? One zoroark goes, and you just go and snatch up the next one you see?"

"Look, I thought you might be appreciative. That's a rare species, and one that's been incredibly useful for your operations…"

"That's all Zeke was good for? Just some tool for operations?"

"I don't need to be lectured about the value of life by someone half my age," Nate snapped back. "Zeke was an amazing guy, but we all had jobs to do. I hate what happened to him as much as you, but we have to continue our work." Michael glared at the female zoroark, who was attacking with far more vigor, now that she didn't have to worry about maintaining the illusion. A dark aura surrounded her arms, and the rhydon tried to charge her before the attack connected. Zaire leapt to the side at the last second, narrowly avoiding her foe. She extended her arms, launching the shadow ball as soon as he hurriedly turned around. At such a close proximity, it connected with his face, knocking him down onto his back. The rhydon shook his head, then went to get back onto his feet, only to realize that everyone was already clapping. He looked down to find that he had fallen out of bounds.

"Well, regardless of if you want to know her or not, she's already been assigned to your squad," Nathaniel said. "Just give her a chance." Michael didn't reply, having nothing to say about the matter at hand. The CIC member likely realized this, and left him to himself, watching as the two pokémon exchanged some words in their own language. He wanted to turn around and leave, but the zoroark had met his gaze. She walked over and extended her clawed hand. He paused for a second and then shook it. Zaire happily began to say something, but all he was able to hear was the incomprehensible growls. Still, they sounded soft and sensual, all while a mischievous tone was in the mix as well. "I can't understand a thing you're saying to me right now," Michael stated. "No implants yet." She rolled her eyes, but still kept saying something - probably to herself. Before they left the room, she made her way to the wall, where a bag rack was. She took a simple, digital camouflage one - dark blue and black - and returned to his side.

As the two of them made their way through the hallway back to the elevator, Michael was fuming to himself. Not because of anything that she had done; he didn't have any opinion on Zaire one way or another. But as far as he was concerned, this really was a dick move by the CIC. Maybe Nate hadn't intended to make such a statement in simply throwing another zoroark towards the Twenty-Fifth, but he couldn't care less right now. Those fucking nightmares hadn't even receded, and now he had to look at another member of that species every single day. He hated it, but he had to get used to it, or at least for another year. It wasn't like there was anything he could do about it, though.

"Have you been on any recon missions before?" Michael asked as they waited on the elevator.

"Zor," she said with a nod.

"Well that's good. How long have been at it?" Zaire held up five of her clawed digits. "Five years?" he asked. She shook her head in response, making him fall silent. _Great… he wasn't fucking kidding about the new part…_ "You do realize we're gonna be heading into some pretty intense shit, right? We can't afford any mistakes." But the zoroark didn't seem concerned about it in the slightest, rather keeping that somewhat smug grin that he was already starting to become annoyed with.

As the number had counted down, Michael felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He casually took it out and looked at the message on the screen. _Well, looks like it's time._ Though he had intended to go back to the housing floor, he had been reminded of a certain procedure that he had forgotten about. Michael reluctantly hit the button for the seventh floor, where a surgeon was probably already waiting on him. And being a procedure of this sort, it would be unlikely that he would receive anesthesia. It was something that he always kept to himself, but he hated going on an operating table.

"This is my stop," he said once the elevator had hit the specified floor. "Guess I'll see you around."

"Rrr," she growled softly, a smile on her face. Though she was notably feminine, she still reminded him of the one that he had lost before. He turned around and walked off, not making eye contact again as the doors closed back.

The seventh level had been remade into the medical floor. Most of the time procedures such as evaluations and general check-ups were the most commonplace, as well as nursing wounded soldiers back to health. But occasionally stuff like this went on. From what he could tell, there would be a lot more done towards artificially enhancing soldiers in similar regards. It was a growing field, and one that the military had a significant interest in. After navigating the hallways, he found the room number that Wesley had texted him. The door was open, and the two people that would be invading his ear canal were sitting on the chairs against the wall. One of them was a male ENT specialist in his mid-sixties, while the other was an alakazam.

"Right on time," said the white-haired man.

"Yeah. How long should this take?"

"Oh, not long. Maybe thirty minutes?" Michael looked on the counter, where the various medical instruments were neatly positioned beside a small, white box. He opened it and found two tiny microchips encased within a thin plastic covering, each one almost half a centimeter squared. "Shit… and you're gonna put this thing in my inner ear?"

"Yep. That won't be a problem, will it?" He appreciated that the surgeon had a sense of humor, but it did nothing to comfort him. "Can't be any worse than being shot, and you've felt that a time or two. Plus you'll be drugged up, so you shouldn't feel too much." Hating the idea of what was about to happen, Michael walked over to the large reclining chair in the middle of the room and took a seat in it.

"Alright. Let's get this over with…" As if on cue, the alakazam telekinetically made the instruments float towards the tray connecting to the chair, setting all of them down, including the two chips that would soon be a part of him.

' _I sense you are uneasy_ ,' the alakazam mentally said to him. ' _Rest assured that I have done this procedure hundreds of times. The operation here will not hurt much. Most of the inconvenience occurs from the aching that you will experience over the next few days.'_

"So I've been told," Michael replied. The ENT specialist selected his otoscope first and had a look into Michael's ear.

"Okay." He must have found the nerve he was looking for, as he grabbed a tiny swab and ripped open a pack for sterilization, before rubbing the tip of it in the compound. Returning to his work, he cleaned the specified area within Michael's ear. "That should do." Michael had only noticed the alakazam's presence on his other side when he felt another instrument enter his other ear. Taking the last of his preparations, the specialist retrieved a small syringe filled with xylocaine. He was not looking forward to this one bit.

 **. . . . .**

Once the operation had been completed, Michael headed back to his quarters. The anesthesia had not fully worn off, and as a result, a significant part of his head was still numb. But pretty soon he was going to miss that feeling. Once he reached his room, he took the card key that had been issued to him and found the set of rooms designated only for those associated with the Reaper program. This time, there were about thirty of them, stretching out into a long hallway of their own. Finding his number, he held the card in front of the scanner and walk inside.

The atmosphere was quiet. Michael looked around and found nobody to be home, other than Layla lying lazily on the couch, flipping through the channels. He went and sat down near the end of her feet. "Mind taking off your VFT?" he asked. The lucario reached up without looking and undid the latch, letting it fall down. "Say something."

"Something."

"Alright. Looks like these work after all. You all won't need to wear those anymore."

"Neat," was all she said, finally settling on a station. He looked down, trying to figure out what to say in this situation. It was clear that she didn't feel like talking. Nevertheless, he decided to press onward, hoping some form of discussion may result from his efforts.

"You know where the others are?"

"Charlotte is next door. The others went to get something to eat."

"Oh. Not hungry?"

"How could I be?" she asked. "Not after that stunt you pulled." Though she was trying to mask it, the hurt in her voice was unmistakable.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked.

"What the hell do you think?" Judging from her response, he felt that he knew the answer to that. "You dropped everything that we all wanted to do just because some man in a uniform asked for you to."

"Our country needs us," he countered. "Do you think that I wanted any of this? I don't want to be here right now."

"But you _are_. And that's on you. Hawkins didn't make your decision for you, yet you came! And you all but tell us to fuck off and deal with it!" At this point, her voice had escalated into a high-pitched yell, and the lucario was on the verge of tears.

"Layla… if I could have my way, then we'd be in the Indigo League this moment."

"Then why _aren't_ we there?" she asked.

"Because I can't sit back while all the others go to war - while the country risks falling into the hands of people just as bad as the ones we spent years taking out."

"I'm tired of all this," she sobbed. "I'm tired of moving around from base to base, just waiting on you to do whatever it is you all do out there." He looked down on the floor, focusing his gaze away from her. There was silence between them, the only sound being the television and the quiet sniffling coming from the lucario. He hated seeing them cry, and yet it seemed he was always the cause of it. "I want you to promise me one thing," she said through her tears.

"Anything."

"Swear to me that this will be the last time." He took her hand and gently pulled her into a sitting position, to which he embraced her. He didn't want to say the words - nobody knew what may happen in the future. But the way things were looking now, it might just be that he would need to make a choice between his career and his relationship. That was a decision he could make hands down.

"Once we've destroyed Delta… then I'm done with the military," he replied. She slowly nodded, before returning his hug.

"…Okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. They stayed that way for a moment, just holding each other in silence. Michael wiped the tears from her eyes, then kissed the lucario on the forehead.

"Let's go find the others. I'm sure you could use something to eat, too."

"Alright," she said, before hopping off the couch. He was relieved to see that she felt a little better about his decision to come back. Naturally, it hurt him to see his mates in such a state. Hopefully he'd have luck in winning over the rest of the girls.

But one thing still concerned him: the promise he had just made. If he was being honest with himself, Nate was completely right. This job tore your very soul out, and yet he still loved it - all of it. From the protection of the innocent to the thrill of the kill, everything they did was captivating and exciting. If more was asked from him in the future, then he might just be tempted to return once again. _But I can't do that to them. Not again._ This very situation had put a massive strain on his relationships with the girls, and that was something that he wouldn't trade for anything in the world. He only prayed that something like this would never happen again, and that after all members of Delta had been dealt with, then he would finally be able to leave it all behind.

As he shut the door behind the two of them, he noticed a particular zoroark fumbling around with a card key of her own, attempting to get into a room. _Great._ "They stationed you down here?" he asked in disbelief. Her ears perked up and she quickly faced them.

"Heh, what did you expect? I'm a Reaper now too, you know."

"As if."

"Aww don't be mean. I was only joking. In any case, sounds like you got the implants. What did it feel like?"

"Like a doctor forcing a damn microchip into my ear. What do you think it felt like?" She pursed her lips.

"I dunno. Never really had an issue with it. I do find it funny how the 'oh-so-clever' humans can't even understand us without their toys, though."

"Do you need something?" Michael asked, clearly in irritation.

"Nope. Not a thing. Just talking with my new comrade," she said with a laugh. "Anyways, I've had a pretty long day, so I think I'm gonna rest up for awhile. Might come harass you some more later." He didn't have a response for that, aside from already deciding that she was an annoying presence that he would have to put up with for only one tour.

"Ah, it's _this_ way," she said, finally managing to position the card in the correct manner. With that, she retreated into the room only three doors down.

"She's kind of… odd," Layla said under her breath.

"You don't say…"

 **. . . . .**

The members of the Twenty-Fifth squad sat in the briefing room, this time having it all to themselves. Some of the other squads had already been sent out on their assigned missions. For this group in particular, their first one would come tomorrow. Everything was rushed, and as soon as intel could be obtained, they were told to act. These were jobs that only special forces could pull off. This one was a prime example of that.

"This is our first target, Trey Lyman," Wesley said, displaying a picture of a man in his late forties. He was slightly overweight from the looks of it, with black hair and some very slight wrinkles. "He's been confirmed as one of the largest players in the prostitution ring throughout Goldenrod."

"Consensual or forced?" Kevin asked. Wesley narrowed his eyes.

"What?"

"I mean are those women being forced into that market, or are they just doing it for a job?"

"What does it matter? Both are against the law." Kevin nodded, though he didn't seem convinced. "Anyways, CIC sources say that he's currently residing in a motel chain outside of the city limits. It's owned by him, so we'll need to assume that everyone there is hostile. We want this one alive for questioning."

"How many of us?" Alex asked.

"All of you, including our newest member," Wesley responded. "Zaire's illusion abilities could be helpful if the situation heads south." The zoroark in question was impatiently tapping her claws in a rhythmic fashion, which was becoming a little more than irritating. Not as irritating as hearing that she'd be going on the mission with them, though.

"Don't you think it's a bit early for her?" Michael asked. "Nate said it himself, she's still a relatively new recruit."

"I told you before, I _have_ been on recon missions before. Six already," Zaire responded.

"Probably not of this caliber."

"I'm sure she'll be fine, Michael," Colonel Hawkins stated. "This should not be an overly difficult mission for you all to pull off, and I'd say her past experience qualifies her - at least enough for something like this. We're only looking at maybe fifteen people total." As much as he hated it, there wasn't any arguing with your superiors - not in this line of work, and even if you disagreed with them. But Wesley did have a point. He let the matter go. "As usual, for a mission like this, you all will be using suppressed MP5s and USP 45s. We want this to go quietly so we don't throw the city into a panic."

"So just take out the guards and bring him in?" Thomas asked.

"Yes. Once we've forced the information out of him, we will begin going after his colleagues. His absence will probably lead to a vacuum in the city, so we will likely need to stick around for some time to continue fighting the recovering prostitution ring. After pickup tomorrow night, we'll be stationed at the Camp Gatley for a few weeks."

Without much else said over the course of the briefing, the Reapers were soon dismissed. All of them except for Alex went on their own way. Really the only thing registering to Michael's mind was the sharp pain throughout his head, no doubt from the horrid procedure that had just been done on him. And to think, they would need to do that every year or so when the batteries in these damn things went out… He almost preferred the collars. Hell, why did he even need to understand other pokémon aside from his girls? But it wasn't a choice.

As he made his way back to his room - hoping to get some ibuprofen or something to counteract the pain - he could hear someone approaching from behind. He glanced over his shoulder only to find no one there. _Great, so now I'm hearing things._ He turned back, coming face to face with Zaire. "Shit," he said as he hurriedly stepped back, causing her to laugh.

"See? I told you I know what I'm doing." He shook his head in disbelief, then walked past her. "Hey - I wasn't done with you." The zoroark picked up the pace to match his.

"What is it now?"

"Come on, are you always in such a bad mood?" she jeered.

"Are you always so annoying?"

"I'm not annoying," she said in defense, "you just need to lighten up a little. But that's not what I'm here for. You all had another zoroark, right?" This was the last thing he wanted to talk about right now, especially with her.

"Yeah, we did. What about him?"

"Well? Where did he go?" she asked. He hit the button for the elevator.

"He's dead. Got killed when our base was leveled."

"Oh," she said quietly. "I'm sorry to hear that. I take it you were close?"

"He was my sixth pokémon. Yes."

"Damn, that's gotta be hard to deal with," she said. _You don't say…_ he thought. They arrived on the housing floor, and Michael stepped off.

"Is that all you wanted to know?" he asked, praying that it was.

"Nope, not by a long shot." _Motherfucker._ "I read about you, ya know. You snuck outta that place with a sceptile, right?"

"Raptor. She was Douglas' pokémon."

"Right. Why did she help you escape?" she asked.

"Because she knew what her trainer had become, and what he was going to do. She decided that she wouldn't stand around while he destroyed countries and had pokémon all but enslaved again. Had it not been for her, I wouldn't be here now. Neither would Hoenn. But it was a decision that cost her. She took the bullet meant for me…"

"Sounds like you were becoming close to her too," Zaire commented. "Damn, if I went through all that, then I'd probably be a downer all the time too… But at least try to look on the bright side - I'm sure they're both in a better place now."

"Yep, there's definitely a bright side. They may have been killed in cold blood, but I'm sure everything will be just fine, right?" She looked at him, unamused by his harsh sarcasm.

"Chill out. I was just trying to help…"

"Well don't. There's nothing that can be done, so there's no need to bring either of them up." He had reached his door and quickly opened it. Before she could get another word out, he had shut the door behind him - a little too loudly. He probably had treated her more than unfairly. Odds were she meant no harm in being as irritating as she was, but that personality combined with _that_ species… It was the last thing he wanted in his life.

The three girls present had flinched upon hearing his entrance. Layla, Charlotte, and Elise all sat on the couch while a movie played on the television. "Sorry about that."

"What was that for?" Layla asked.

"Just trying to get away from being hounded from our new partner. Why they would think it appropriate to give us another zoroark is beyond me."

"Yeah, that's pretty rough," the lucario said. He took his spot beside her in the middle of the couch. The other two were at the end. By the looks on Charlotte's and Elise's face, it looked like they were still upset. He couldn't blame them for that. "Well, Alaina decided to enlist as well. She'll be doing medical evac with Ver it looks like."

"Great. Last thing I need is another one of you enlisting…" He hated that Ver was out there in the first place. Even though her role was not combative in nature, that didn't mean she couldn't be shot. Many of the people they fought would not hesitate to shoot a medic attempting to rescue a fallen enemy. And now a second girl would be in on it? But it would be a double standard to keep them from doing a safer job when he himself was out there in one of the most dangerous occupations known to man.

"Alaina is more than capable of holding her own. More so than any of us - even you. I wouldn't worry about her."

The four of them remained mostly silent as the movie played on. He wasn't too invested into it - he may have seen it a time or two before - but he knew the plot well enough. It was about a knight who had fought in the Great Kalosian War, taking down enemies much stronger than him. Based on historical context, it didn't end very well for any of the people involved…

When the commercial break came, he picked up the remote and muted the television, gaining all of their attention. "Do you all forgive me for doing this?" Michael asked. It was a question he hated to ask, but a necessary one. Charlotte was the first one to speak.

"I… don't want to be here at all. But I can't blame you for coming back. I just… wish that you hadn't. I don't know what it's like for you all, but it probably would have been impossible for you to stand by while the others went out again." That was true. In many cases, members of special forces were closer to their comrades then they were to their own wives or children. They had the highest divorce rate in the country for a reason. That wasn't the case with Michael, but he couldn't bring himself to allow the others to fight without joining in himself. "Layla told me about your promise. I'm holding you to that," the braixen said. He nodded - he had meant every word of that. The second Delta had been dealt with, he was out of there.

"I forgive you," Elise quietly said. "I can't be upset at you… but I'm still sad about the whole thing."

"I can understand that," he replied.

"But I do want to challenge the league. All of us do," the glaceon said. "Is it still going to happen?"

"Absolutely. One day, we're going to fight whoever the new champion is, and we're gonna win. Once we've finished up here, what happens next is up to you girls. I'm done forcing you all to tag along with whatever I'm doing. It's time I let you all call some of the shots." The glaceon nuzzled into his hand.

"Thank you," she whispered. Charlotte also came in close, wrapping her arms as much as she could around his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the lucario leaning in. He raised his arm, ready to bring her in to the group hug as well, only for her to grab the remote with a grin and un-mute the now continuing movie.

"Ah, and here I thought you were being affectionate," he said.

"I'm just messing with you," she laughed, before kissing him on the cheek. "Now I'm glad to hear that we're getting things in order, but I really wanna see this."

As they watched the movie in mostly silence, Michael's mind was racing with thoughts of this upcoming year. Where things were headed were beyond him, but one thing was for certain: this course of action would have consequences. No doubt the left would use their political machines - mainly the media and education system - to try and create hostility towards them for fighting back. But Johto was not a country that would sit down and take a hit. They were going to rip Delta out by the very roots and level anything that got in their way.


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N:**

 **Not too much to say as I want to keep my author's notes short. Orthros is of course to thank for quality assurance, and he's really good at it. Also check out _Into Darkness_ if you like this story.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"A person who truly knows you is someone who sees the pain in your eyes while everyone else still believes in the smile on your face."**

 **-Unknown**

* * *

 **Ch. 35 - Intervention**

The bright lights of the city and the rushing sounds of the midnight traffic made everything a blur to the armed militants. One would think that at this hour, the roads would be mostly devoid of people. But Goldenrod was a massive city with millions upon millions of people, and the night life here seemed to get just as many people out and about as the daytime. And things were about to get a lot more lively.

Michael screwed the silencer onto the MP5. With the subsonic ammunition they were using, not a single shot would be heard. That is, if they managed to successfully refrain from getting into a firefight. In order to avoid alerting any lookouts, they rode in a large, black SUV. He had wished that the ride had been a quiet one. It _had_ been on their end of things, but as for a particular zoroark… well, he desperately wished that she'd take a break from talking. Alex hadn't said a word since they'd started the mission, which was odd considering his somewhat quirky, but overall social, personality. But that was the least of their concerns right now. The more pressing matter was how they were going to bring in this thug.

"See back when I was a pup, our village was discovered by some self-proclaimed future champion," Zaire said, beginning another one of her anecdotes. "My father was pretty hostile towards him and his team - nothing good could come from a trainer finding the location to our home, ya know? I still can't figure out how he found the place. But Mom decided to be hospitable and even had him over for dinner."

"Do you ever shut up?" Michael asked, earning a sharp elbow from Thomas. She didn't even hesitate to answer.

"When I'm asleep," she said. "But anyways, back to what I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted. He got caught by a friend of ours trying to snatch a zorua younger than me. That didn't end well."

"I'm sure it didn't," John said.

"Nope. He was beaten unconscious and dropped off on the nearest road twenty kilometers away. Never saw anything from him again, or any humans there since."

"So then what made you decide to enlist?" Thomas asked.

"I wanted out of the place. Don't get me wrong, it was great and all, but I didn't feel like living my whole life in the middle of nowhere with about thirty others. But the thing is, if you wanna live in human civilization you need a job. I was already a great fighter, so military seemed like a great option. And after Johto started heavily funding the CIC, they started paying for everything for us. Food, housing, medical… it's a great gig now. Not to mention they taught me how to kick ass even more."

"Well we'll see about that. We're here," Michael said. The car was pulling had pulled to a stop behind a nearby gas station. Behind the building, there were no surveillance cameras, and with no one else in sight, the seven members of the team were able to quickly get out in secrecy. Behind the cyclone fence was a small section of woods that they would use to mask their presence until they could cross the street towards the motel. That would be where the real fun began, as they would need to strategically pick out their targets in a way that would allow them to infiltrate the buildings without being caught.

"Safeties off, thermal on," Hawkins said. One by one they climbed over the fence, wasting no time in merging with the darkness around them. On his display, Michael saw the marked motel of interest about a hundred meters south from their current location. Their plan of engagement was relatively simple: they would all stick together and provide cover while Zaire would serve as their method of getting into the individual rooms. Once they killed one of the guards up front, she would take on his appearance and knock on the doors. That would be when the Reapers stormed in to clean everyone out.

It wasn't long before they reached the clearing. A lone car drove by on the relatively non-busy road, and the thermal vision revealed a couple of men sitting outside in the rocking chairs in front of the rooms. They all wore suits, and the likely guess was that they were concealing handguns inside their coats. Not that it would do them any good.

There were three buildings in total. Two of them on each side of the main, each of them facing inwards towards a small courtyard that appeared to have received little attention since the place had first been built. All three had two stories and small porches in front of the entrance to the room, some of which had the aforementioned guards. In total he could only count three outside, one stationed at each building. "Split off into teams of two and take them out," Hawkins said over the comm line.

Michael and Alex decided to take the man on the east building. Working their way through the outskirts of the woods, they quickly crossed the road when they were out of sight, keeping close to the backside of the building. The Reapers would need to take the enemies out in very quick succession so as to avoid raising alarm. Michael flipped the safety off the submachine gun as the two of them crept slowly around the side. Looking cautiously around the corner, he could see the target of interest nearby. Across from their location, Samuel and Thomas were in a similar predicament as them. Though it would be far easier to shoot the guard on the opposite building, doing so would undoubtedly shoot into the room behind, which would probably blow their cover.

"On my go," Hawkins said. They waited in silence until they heard the Colonel's command. "Now!"

In a flash, all of the Reapers peaked around and shot their targets. Michael watched as the enemy's head snapped back - a result of the 9mm hollow-point carving a channel through his brain. It had been the first time in almost a year since he'd killed someone. The chair continued to rock, slowing to a stop as the man on top of it sat lifelessly. "All clear," said Thomas.

Zaire walked out into the open, making her way to the guard that Michael had shot. She placed a clawed hand under his chin, lifting the man's head up so that she could get a clear look at his features. "Seems easy enough." She let his head return to its previously slumped position. The zoroark then noticed that she had gotten blood on her hand. "Ew," she said, beginning to wipe it off onto his suit.

"Dammit, just get on with it. We don't have all night," Michael said.

"Fine, fine. This is just gross as shit, having someone else's blood on you."

"Well you should get used to it. Now make the illusion." By now, the others had all approached them, ready to proceed with the next phase of the mission. Zaire focused for a moment, and soon the all-too-familiar dark shroud engulfed her form, replacing it with that of the man he had just killed.

"Good," Hawkins said, "now proceed according to plan." They started with the first room on the bottom floor. Zaire took a deep breath before knocking on the door. While Thomas and Kevin kept their guns aimed outside - just in case anyone else decided to sneak up on them - the other four stood ready to breach the room. She knocked again, this time a little louder. Shuffling could be heard from the inside of the room. Whoever was inside would soon be at the door.

"Any chance this is a civilian?" John asked.

"Unlikely. Lyman's thugs have been running this joint for weeks now. This place serves more as a cover for his other illicit activities rather than a motel. Odds are you'll need to shoot whoever answers that door." The footsteps could be heard approaching before they came to a stop right on the other side of the door, no doubt looking through the peephole and seeing what appeared to be their comrade on the porch.

Michael held his breath as the door opened slowly, revealing a bare-chested man in his thirties.

"The fuck is it?" he asked, before immediately realizing the guns pointed at him. There was no time for him to make a sound as the silent shots were fired. They hurried inside, weapons raised, and found the rest of the room to be empty.

"Great work. Time to move on to the next one," Wesley said. "Keep going."

For half an hour, the Reapers went about clearing out the remaining rooms in a similar fashion. The longest part was waiting for a potential enemy to answer the doors. Not all of the rooms were occupied, after all. But they could not risk it and leave too soon, so they had to wait it out each and every time. Only after about two minutes of silence did they dismiss the room altogether and head for the next one. They alternated jobs so that nobody did all of the work. As much as he hated to admit it, Zaire was doing a relatively good job in maintaining her illusion for such a period of time. True, she may have dropped it between the room breaches, but it was still an impressive feat for a new recruit nonetheless.

Only one mishap had occurred the entire time. Turns out the guards had shifts, and one of the crooks had left his room to swap out with one of the previously killed men. Had it not been for Samuel spotting him at a short notice, he would have blown their cover.

At this point, they were working on the final and central building. They had already taken care of four of the rooms, finding only one to actually be occupied. Michael now stood against a column on the second story, keeping watch over the last of the unchecked rooms. Beneath him he heard Zaire repeat the same steps as before. It wasn't long after that he heard the four invading Reapers storm into the place, and undoubtedly shots had been fired.

"We got him," Thomas said.

"Nice going. Pickup will be there shortly. Get him out in the open."

"Alright," Thomas replied. "Get the fuck up!" Michael didn't move from his spot just in case anyone that might be in the rooms beside him decided to try and interfere. But he could see Thomas shoving the man into the clearing below. Though the thermal vision didn't allow for him to get the best view of the man's features, there was no doubt that it was him. He had his hands behind his head as the others stood nearby with their weapons pointed in his general direction.

"Stay put and you'll stay alive," Samuel warned. The crook said nothing, but did as he was told. _Smart decision,_ Michael thought.

"Well," a certain zoroark said behind him.

"Well what?"

"I'm not hearing any apologies," Zaire said.

"For?" he asked.

"For doubting me. Face it, you were wrong. I pulled this job off without a hitch," she replied with a smug grin.

"It wasn't hard at all. Everything went according to plan, and we did all the killing."

"C'mon," she said, "give me _some_ credit. It would have been a lot harder without my skills."

"If I tell you 'good job,' will you get off my back about it?" He desperately wished that she would, then maybe she could go irritate the captive.

"Mmm… no promises. But it'd be a good start." He debated upon whether or not to say it when he noticed another large SUV slowing to a stop along the road.

"Is that ours?" Kevin asked.

"That can't be," Wesley asked. "Stay alert." They all pointed their weapons at the vehicle, ready to fire at the slightest sign of trouble. The car remained still for a moment before continuing on the road once again. _The hell was that?_

"Guess we'd better clear the rest of these," Zaire said once everything had returned to normal. That actually was a good point. That was part of the plan - they couldn't just leave any potential enemies alive. They only had room for one prisoner anyways, and this would need to be done. They may as well take care of it now.

"What do you think Hawkins?" Michael asked.

"Go ahead. I'd be surprised if there was anyone else in there, but it doesn't hurt to check." Gaining the confirmation, Zaire immediately disguised herself once again, assuming the appearance of the man who had been dead for nearly an hour now. She knocked on the first door, beginning the process once again. Michael stood beside her, just out of view of the peephole. But neither of them heard a thing.

"Well I guess this one is empty," Zaire said after another moment had passed. Just as they had turned to go to the adjacent room, she had noticed something. Following her gaze, Michael saw just what it was. The same car as before had turned off its headlights and was speeding through the darkness.

"Move!" Michael yelled to the others. The SUV drove between the main building and the western one, and Thomas, not having been fast enough in his maneuver, was clipped by the side mirror. He was sent to the ground as the car screeched to a stop.

In a flash, the other five Reapers lit the vehicle up, emptying their clips into the passengers within. Blood sprayed onto the shattered windshield, and the driver's head slammed against the steering wheel. The sound of the car horn permeated throughout the night as everyone regained their composure.

"Shit, he's trying to get away!" John yelled. Lyman had decided to use the distraction to make a break for it, running right towards the woods that they had come from. As if it would do him any good. Samuel took out his pistol and remained still for a second. A trio of shots were fired, the recoil of which had brought the final one right to the target's kneecap.

"That solves that," he said, holstering the pistol once again. While Thomas got himself off of the ground, clutching his aching shoulder in the process, Michael reloaded the weapon. No doubt that a hit like that would leave a nasty bruise - it had taken the mirror completely off of the car. On the other end, Michael heard one of the doorknobs twisting open.

"We've got another," he said, signaling the door to the others. Slowly the door opened, and a black-haired woman in her twenties stepped out, looking for the source of the constant noise. She gasped when she noticed the wreckage and the guns pointed in her direction.

"Don't shoot," she pleaded. "P-please don't shoot!"

"What are you doing here?" Michael asked aloud.

"I w-work here..." In the distance, Samuel and Kevin could be seen bringing Lyman back towards the motels. "What on earth happened? What have you done to the place?"

"Maybe she didn't know," Hawkins said over the comm line. "In any case, we'll be bringing her in too. The local police are already on their way. Let them take her."

"Copy that," Michael replied, before returning his attention to the new captive. "Looks like you'll be coming with us. No doubt they'll wanna know what you've seen here. Take a seat." She did as she was told, likely terrified beyond belief. At this point, with only three rooms left, it would be much easier to just break in and enter to check the last ones. "I'm clearing these last few rooms," he said quietly to the others. He pointed the submachine gun at the doorknob and shot it several times, before ramming into the door. It flung open, and he was greeted to an empty room. "Clear."

It wasn't long before their vehicle had arrived again, looking very similar to the one that they had just shot down. The only difference was the yearly model of the car, which is why they had been confused initially. The car was chosen due to the fact that they were in town and because Camp Gatley was only about twenty minutes away. A multitude of sirens could be heard nearby, signaling the approaching police. When they pulled into the motel, the Reapers shoved their hostage into the vehicle before getting in themselves. Everyone knew that suit; it was one of the most unmistakable signs among the Johto military, albeit the most elite. They were not held back.

As they drove away, John grabbed one of the first aid kits that was always kept in the back before going to work. He patched up Lyman's knee, which still had a steady trickle of blood trailing down, all while he winced in pain. "You… shot me," he said through clenched teeth.

"Yeah," Samuel said, "I did. And what did you expect? You think we're some cops in your homeland? You ran, and we couldn't let that happen."

"I do have to admit," Zaire interjected, "for someone of your size, you can book it. Not faster than a bullet though."

"Stay outta this bitch. And when I walk away from this, I'll make sure they take every one of your heads."

"Oh trust me, you're not going anywhere. We had everything we needed to book you for life. Unovan lawyers won't ever be able to find you. Not where you're going. And that's if they decide on imprisonment," said Thomas. "You know how pimps get punished over here?"

"I have rights. You can't take those from me."

"Watch us. You forfeited your rights when you stepped on our turf, you fat fuck," Michael said. "Maybe if you cooperate, you might get spared from the electric chair. May even get to call your family every once in awhile - that is if they even want to speak to you."

"Don't entertain a conversation with him anymore," Wesley said. "It's immature, and you're wasting your time. Let us do all the talking to him." That was probably for the best. Seeing two of his comrades with their pistols ready to go, he laid back against the seat, closing his eyes.

 **. . . . .**

Once they had arrived at Gatley it was about 3:00 AM, and a crew was already waiting for them when they pulled in. Lyman was taken to the medical bay where, according to international law, his wound would be more properly treated. That was, of course, prior to his questioning, which would likely come with more inflicted wounds. Odds were they'd transport him to a more secretive facility to undergo a process like that, and that would be the last they heard of him. Michael estimated that it would take no more than a few days for him to break.

Colonel Hawkins led them back to a room that had been cleared out for the Reapers to use as their own personal armory. Michael removed the suit just as easily as he had all the other times. First the weapons and gear, then the mask…

"I'm not seeing my Negev in here," Thomas said.

"That's because you won't be needing it for this line of missions," Hawkins replied. "I'm sure it's waiting for your return back at Stryker." Michael finished slipping off the kevlar suit and hung it on its designated spot. It always felt good to get out of that thing. While they went about undressing, Zaire waited outside. Finally, a moment where she was quiet…

Once they had finished putting on some more casual clothes, one question remained. "Where are we staying?" Kevin asked.

"Right outside the base. The duplexes are usually reserved for officers, but we were able to clear a few out for you all. Two beds and two bathrooms apiece. Some of you are sharing."

"Wait, there's no way we can—." Wesley cut Michael off before he could finish.

"I said _some_ of you. Cool it. I know that you've got five others living with you. You're getting a room to yourself. John and Kevin are sharing, and Alex and Samuel are as well. Thomas, you'll get one on your own."

"Wait - how come he gets one to himself when we've both got the same number of pokémon?" Alex asked.

"Because he's just about as big as his golurk. You expect them to share a bed?"

"Alright, alright. Good point," Alex admitted.

"Zaire, as the only female member of the team, you'll get the last duplex to yourself."

"Well that's no fun," she said. "I kinda wanted a roommate."

"I'm sure you'll manage," Hawkins replied. "In the meantime, your cards have been updated to grant you access to the buildings, and each of your pokémon are already in your quarters."

Once they had finished up there, everyone was ready to go to their quarters and get some rest. But as they were headed out the door, he was stopped. "Michael," the Colonel said.

"Yes."

"There's something I want to talk with you about. Meet me at the front entrance at ten in the morning." He was surprised to hear this, especially considering Hawkins' tone. What could he want to discuss? He would just have to wait until morning to find out.

"…Alright."

Fortunately for them, the duplexes were within walking distance. John shone the light on his phone onto the folded piece of paper that had their names and the corresponding building numbers. When they arrived, the Reapers stopped in the middle of the road, standing beside the driveway of one of the specified buildings. They looked pretty nice - the lawns were well kept and everything was pristine. A door on each side led to the mirroring living spaces for each individual building.

"Okay, so Kevin - you and I have fifty-two. Alex and Sam get fifty-three right in the same building. Thomas, you're on fifty-one."

"Am I fifty?" Michael asked, desperately hoping the answer to that question was yes. _Please for the love of Arceus, tell me you didn't do this to me Hawkins…_

"No, you're fifty-four. Fifty isn't on the list. That leaves you in fifty-five, Zaire." _Fucking hell._

"Oh well, it looks like you'll have to put up with me," Zaire said in a teasing manner. What he wouldn't give to trade spots with any of the others right about now. But the cards were set to open their specified doors. By the time he'd be able to request a room change in the morning, everyone would have settled in… Was Arceus punishing him for something?

"I'm not tryin' to be rude," Thomas said, "but I really don't wanna stand here and talk. I need to get some ice on this fucking shoulder."

"Yeah. Watch out for any mirrors on your way. Heard they can be hard to dodge," Kevin said.

"Fuck off," the larger Reaper said, already on his way.

"Well I think I'm gonna go ahead and turn in too," John said. "Goodnight y'all." Michael hurriedly walked over to his place, hoping to get to sleep soon and without having to deal with the new nuisance that had been assigned to their team. How on earth he was going to survive up to a month with her as a "neighbor" of sorts was beyond him. Probably through a lot of avoidance on his part, and maybe with the help of Jack Daniels.

Michael quietly shut the door behind him, as the girls were undoubtedly asleep by now. He found the duplex to his liking at about the same size as their previous quarters, albeit in a completely different configuration. The front entrance had brought him to a hallway, which had three doorways along the right side. The first brought him to the living room, dining room, and kitchen, while the other two were bedrooms. With the doors open, he could see it was dark inside, so he wasn't about to bother any of them. He went into the dining room, where a small closet to the side revealed an all-in-one washer and dryer unit. On top of it was some spare linens, which he grabbed and threw somewhat carelessly onto the couch. Before heading to bed, he went into the bathroom and found sets of new toiletries under the cabinet. After brushing his teeth, he set the alarm on his phone and laid down on the couch, falling asleep quicker than he had in a long time.

 **. . . . .**

Sunlight poured into the living room as he woke to the sound of the microwave going off. Michael groggily opened his eyes and noticed that the time was only 7:44. _Why are they up now?_ He tried to turn onto his side, pulling the blanket over himself again, but just a minute later and a loud _thud_ sounded from the kitchen. _Fuck…_ He kicked the sheets off of himself, realizing that four hours of sleep was all that he was going to get. _What did you do?_ he thought as he walked slowly into the kitchen. Layla was sitting up on the floor in front of the refrigerator, clearly dazed. "What the hell Layla?"

"Sorry," she said. "I fell…"

"What were you trying to do?"

"Get another one out of the fridge," she said, pointing to the object that she had taken out of the microwave. It was an instant breakfast pack. It was then that he realized that Charlotte and Elise were also at the table.

"Why didn't you ask for help?"

"Because Ver and Alaina had to go do some training exercise and you were out cold," the lucario said. Extending his hand, Michael helped her up before retrieving the other two packets out of the freezer. "You could've asked me," he said.

"Mhm, but you came in late. I almost went to sleep at two and you still weren't in." He nodded.

"Yeah. It took awhile, that's for sure."

"How'd it go?" asked Charlotte.

"Went pretty well. It was the same thing every time, but it worked, and we got the guy we were after. Samuel ended up shooting him in the knee, so that was pretty funny."

"Ouch… where is he now?" Charlotte asked.

"Beats me. They're shipping him somewhere where they can torture him for information. My guess is probably Orre."

"What did he do?" Elise asked. "That seems… harsh…"

"He ran a prostitution chain here in Goldenrod. Sometimes it's cause those girls owed him a debt - probably for drugs - and sometimes it's because they were kidnapped and forced. Either way, it's wrong. Not to mention he's with the group that's trying to take over all the regions. We need to know what he knows, and sometimes physical pain is what it takes." The microwave went off, and another one of the packaged meals had finished its cycle. Charlotte had already started to eat hers, and Layla motioned for him to give the next one to Elise.

"Is the country going to be okay?" asked the glaceon.

"Of course. We'll be fine," Michael said as he put the final packet into the microwave. "We always are."

 **. . . . .**

When it had nearly come time for him to meet Hawkins, Michael stepped outside. Still no sign of Alaina or Ver. Out by the side of the road, a group of soldiers were going about their morning exercises, jogging in a double-file line. Directly behind them was a pack of manectrics similarly engaged in the routine. He was about to head over to the meeting place when he noticed two figures trailing behind the others. _That's strange,_ Michael thought, _they don't seem like military._ One of the two was a man that looked to be in his late twenties, wearing a dark hoodie. The other was an absol, who appeared to be not nearly as winded as he was.

Returning his attention to the current objective, Michael followed the road at a leisurely pace. The front gate was about one kilometer to spare, so ten minutes would be more than enough. _Nice day out,_ he thought. Though it was a tad bit on the cool side. He did find it strange that of all the places to meet, Wesley would pick this one. But then again, he didn't know the base's layout, so something easy to get to was probably the best option. As he neared the designated meeting area, he noticed something odd. The man and his absol from before were already there, speaking with Colonel Hawkins. _The fuck?_ Whatever they were saying, he couldn't hear it, and by the time he'd gotten close enough to where he could, the man in question had already resumed his morning jog. Wesley straightened his black beret before noticing Michael approaching.

"What was that about?" Michael asked.

"Do you know why I asked you to speak with me?" Hawkins asked. A question like that always made someone nervous.

"Not really. Did I fuck something up this past mission?"

"In a way, yes. You never mentioned to me that you have PTSD."

"I don't," he said in an annoyed tone. He was going to let Alex have it when he got back. "That's a bunch of bullshit."

"Well I can't take that risk. Reapers are prime candidates for developing it, and it's a good way to get people killed - sending out someone like that on missions."

"What are you saying?" Michael asked. "You mean to tell me that _you_ asked me to come here and help bring down a new criminal organization - _and_ right when we're getting ready to go to the League - only to tell me that you're not going to deploy me anymore?!" He was beyond livid, and it was too late to go back to the way things were headed beforehand.

"Hold off," Wesley said, "I never said I didn't intend to deploy you over the course of this tour. But until I know for sure whether or not you have a mental disorder, I am prohibited by law to assign you."

"Shit," Michael muttered. "How long will it take?"

"He said something about it taking at least six weeks, maybe six months."

"Fucking hell - and what do you mean by 'he?'" Michael asked.

"The therapist that you're now required to see."

"I'm going to kill him. Alex shouldn't have opened his damn mouth when he doesn't know shit! There's absolutely nothing wrong with me!"

"Well if that's the case, then you'll be back out there in no time. But right now I need you to cooperate and go through with this. Is that understood?" He wasn't asking a question; he was making a demand. Michael knew that there was no way that he could get out of this. His only response was a slight, silent nod, all while he gritted his teeth. "Good. I'm sorry that it's come to this, but I want you to understand that all of us want the best for you. No one meant any harm by bringing this to my attention." _I'll show him harm._

Once Hawkins had gone his own way, Michael turned right back around. He had only one destination in mind as he paced there quickly. Kevin was out on his usual morning run and noticed him.

"Hey," he said in his usual carefree tone, "you look pretty pissed. What's up?" He didn't say a word, but just kept walking. Honestly, the words had barely registered to them at this point. "Huh, alright then."

The second he approached the door, he knocked on it loudly. The number fifty-three glared back at him as he stood there, waiting for someone to answer. Eventually someone did. Samuel stood there in just a pair of gym shorts, curious as to why his comrade had furiously approached them. "Something up?" he asked. Michael walked straight in, passing him without a second thought and quickly scanning over the house. He saw exactly who he was looking for in the living room, with the luxray asleep beside him. Alex must have known, too, as he stood up the moment Michael walked in. Without hesitation, he closed the distance between the two of them and shoved Alex back down, causing his head to contact the wall.

"You got me fucking grounded!" Michael yelled to his dazed comrade.

"What are you talking about?" Alex said, standing up once again and squaring off against him.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about! He just assigned me to a fucking _therapist_ because _you_ couldn't keep your fucking mouth shut!" He swung for his friend once again, though this time Alex backed up.

"Stop it!" Lillian yelled, having woken up to such a sight.

"He fucking betrayed me!" Michael yelled back, before directing his rage once again towards Alex. "After all the shit we've been through, you go and pull a stunt like that?!"

"Look at you!" Alex finally screamed back. "You're not all there! You haven't been in a long time! I don't give a shit if you're mad or not! I'm not gonna sit around and watch you get yourself killed!" Michael rushed forward again, only to find his whole body stiffen up as a burning sensation crawled through every fiber of his being. He fell to the ground and cramped up as the electricity ran its course throughout him.

"You… took one of the last things I cared about," Michael spat. His breathing was frantic and vengeful.

"If you don't get help, you'll lose the last _five_ things you care about," Alex said, rubbing the back of his head. Samuel had come into the room and put himself between the two of them in an effort to break everything up.

Michael picked himself up off the ground, seeing Lillian flinch in apprehension. But the static was still running along her fur; she would shock him again if he stepped out of line. He turned away, heading for the door. The Reaper had no more words, other than Alex had been a pretty shit friend to make a move like that.

Everything about this whole situation sucked. Hell, if it was found that he was mentally unfit, he might even legally have to turn in his firearms, and it would be a cold day in hell before that happened. Not to mention the fact that he was stuck here on base for Arceus knows how long. And all of this would either be confirmed or dismissed based upon the words of _one_ individual. As much of bullshit as it was, one particular stranger was going to be in control of a significant part of the Reaper's future. _Oh I'll make sure,_ he thought. _I'll make sure whoever this fucker is, he says exactly what I want._


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N:**

 **Sorry for the holdup.** **Important chapter here, mostly for character development. Also the introduction of another significant character in the story.**

 **Thanks again to Orthros for proof reading services prior to publication.**

 **If you like this story, please consider checking out my Explorers of Sky fic, _Into Darkness_.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"The only mistake you can make is not asking for help."**

 **-Sandeep Jauhar**

* * *

 **Ch. 36 - A New Conflict**

"What do you mean I can't just leave?" Michael asked. "I just had to deliver the biggest disappointment in the girls' life - and I could undo it all. We could still make it there before they start tomorrow!" At this point, he was furious.

"You are now enlisted again," Wesley replied, more than sick of repeating the same thing over and over. "You can't just up and quit like that! You're working for the government - you don't just walk away!"

"Why the hell would you ask for my service and not let me serve?" he asked.

"You think this is my fault?" the Colonel asked. "Or even Alex's for that matter?"

"Honestly? It's kinda obvious at this point."

"I thought on it for hours last night, and I don't know what to think. Why would someone who has known you for over ten years lie about something like this? What would he have to gain?"

"I don't know?" Michael stated. "He probably didn't think. May have felt that he was helping, but he should have stayed the fuck outta my personal business. And now everything is in the hands of _one_ prick that has no fucking clue what's at stake right now. All he has to do is check a single box and they'll have me on medication for years. How do you think that makes me feel, knowing that I can't do the one thing I came here for? The one thing that I just chose over _their_ happiness?" He had realized it now. He may have been one of the most skilled operatives in the military, but he should have never enlisted in the first place. Everyone would have been better off had they just taken their trip as planned.

"I'm sorry, I really am. But I don't know what to tell you. I was required by law to document the possibility, and now we need to know for sure. As things currently stand, we really don't have any choice in the matter. Be upfront about everything, and if there's nothing wrong, you'll be back out there again very soon. That's as much as I can tell you." Michael stood up and paced around, thinking of something to say - anything that could possibly reverse the situation. But nothing came to mind; he would have to go through this. He had hoped that there could be some last minute measure he could take to get out of this altogether, but it was to no avail. And if he wanted this over quickly, then he'd need to really be strategic with how he played his cards.

"You know just as well as I do that this is a load of bullshit," Michael said.

"It couldn't have been at a worse time, that's for sure. I need you out there, not cooped up at base. But the fact of the matter is that you're staying here until I get some real answers." Knowing that he wouldn't be making any headway in the matter, and that he had no choice at all, Michael left the Colonel's presence. _What a fucking prick_ , he kept thinking to himself. _After all these years, he goes and throws me under the bus like that!_

"How did it go?" Layla asked as soon as he stepped around the corner.

"It was a tremendous waste of time. He said I've got no other option."

"Dang… and to think we ditched the league for this…"

"Yeah, I know," Michael admitted. "I'm doing what I can to work my way outta this. But it's not looking good. They got me fucking caged." They walked down the busy hallway towards the cafeteria, where the others were waiting for them. "Bad news girls," he said as he approached their end of the long table, "that prick managed to get me booked with that therapist."

"That's not a very nice way to speak about your advisor…" Alaina said.

"Wasn't talking about Hawkins. He's just doing what he's obligated by law to do."

"Oh…" she said. "You know just as well as I do that Alex wants the best for you. He did what any friend would do."

"He should've thought of the consequences that it would have for me. I went and made a decision to ditch everything we wanted to do so I could stop these invaders. Now because he went and ran his damn mouth, I can't do that either."

"Then I would encourage you to treat these therapy sessions seriously," Alaina continued. "I'm sure you could get a lot out of it. Maybe us coming here was for the best after all."

"What do you mean by that?" Michael asked.

"Well," Alaina stated, "you won't admit that there's a problem, even though there clearly is. You know that as well as any of us - and as well as Alex. You weren't about to reach out for help, so maybe it's for the best that you aren't given a choice in the matter." He stared at her in confusion, but she was certain of her position.

"Why is it that you constantly think there's something wrong with me?"

"Would you like me to go down the list?" Alaina asked.

"Sure, humor me."

"Alright," she said. "Well for starters, you are clearly paranoid. You don't sleep, and when you do, you have nightmares. You probably don't remember it, but I woke up one night to you trying to strangle me in your sleep. You don't find enjoyment in _anything_ anymore, and we haven't had sex in months. The Michael I once knew hasn't been here in a long time." That one hurt to hear, but as much as he wanted to say something in his defense, he couldn't find the words.

"…She's right, you know," Charlotte said to his annoyance.

"I don't think so…" Michael stated.

"Oh? Want to try to disprove anything I just said?" Alaina asked. "I'll tell you what, give me _one_ thing I was wrong about and I'll take it all back." She looked him directly in the eyes, challenging him to do just that. He thought for a moment before managing to put together a response.

"Just because I have a gun under my pillow doesn't make me paranoid. I'm just not willing to risk losing any of you if something happens again."

"Arceus, of course _that_ would be what you bring up out of everything," she said, rolling her eyes. "Listen, it's not the gun under the pillow. It's the gun under the couch, in every closet, in the cabinets, the drawers… You're scared that an army is about to storm the place!"

"Seems to me like that's what happened last time, and we weren't prepared to stop it," Michael countered. "And it cost us a lot of good people. I don't take chances, not when it comes to you girls." The latias just shook her head in annoyance, clearly agitated by the fact that he had found a way to turn the conversation against her, albeit not very effectively.

"Whatever you say. Just go to the sessions and actually try to get something out of it."

"If you say so."

. . . . .

After lunch, Michael checked his phone and noticed a text from Samuel.

 _Heading out to the range today to sight my rifle in. Want to come?_

He thought it over. Samuel didn't really play much of a role in Alex's decision to speak up to Hawkins, so Michael tapped away at his phone and sent his response.

 _Just the two of us?_

Hopefully it would be. He didn't feel like being around too many others for the time being, though a trip to the range would be welcome.

 _Nicole's here_.

Of course that wasn't surprising. The ninetales often went with the sniper to assist him as a spotter.

 _That shouldn't be a problem. Will be there soon._

Most of them were headed back towards their quarters, so Michael would need to make sure to grab his M1A. Both Ver and Alaina would soon be attending an EMT exercise, so they likely wouldn't be home until later that night. _Kinda weird… they'll be experiencing more action than I will for awhile…_ But hopefully he'd be out there again soon.

"I'll be heading off soon," Michael stated as they walked into their part of the duplex.

"Really? Where to?" asked Layla.

"The range. Gonna try again to zero that damn thing in. Hopefully Samuel can help."

"I thought you were satisfied with it," the lucario said.

"Yeah, for close ranges. But what if I need it to accurately hit a target farther away?" The lucario rolled her eyes.

"Are you planning on hunting?"

"Not really, no," he replied.

"Then why on earth do you need something like that?"

"Because I want to. That's why I got the thing in the first place." Odds were the lucario decided to drop it because she didn't feel like following the conversation up any more. In any case, that was the end of it.

"What time will you be back?" Elise asked.

"I dunno, when I get the damn thing working right or when I run outta ammo. Whichever comes first."

"What about your appointment?" Layla inquired.  
"Should be back in time." Michael slung the rifle over his shoulder and grabbed the range bag before heading out of the house. "See you all later."

 **. . . . .**

Despite the constant gunfire, the range was a very peaceful scene. Rather than a massive outstretch of mountains in the distance, there was nothing but a relatively flat field as far as any bullets they were using could possibly reach. Targets of all sorts dotted the landscape at varying distances, and the shooters were positioned on top of a small hill that gave them a slight height advantage. Towards the end were the two that he was interested in.

Nicole was lying prone alongside her trainer, looking through a spotting scope, her left eye squinted shut. Just like everyone else there, she wore ear muffs, though they looked a bit odd on the fox-like creature.

"I see you brought out the Lapua. Finally manage to shoot out the barrel?"

"Yeah," Samuel replied. "Fucking thing goes a lot faster than you'd think, too."

"Hey Michael," Nicole said.

"Hey," he replied. "How's his shooting?"

"Oh, he's not doing too well today. Only five centimeter groups at six hundred."

"Fuck, I'd be happy to have that at three…"

"Well let's see what you got," Samuel stated, motioning for him to set his range equipment down. "I've left my three-hundred target alone. Have at it." Michael unlocked the latches for his rifle case, to which his comrade shook his head. "Really? You went and bought a semi? And for such a good caliber too."

"Yeah well you don't seem to have a problem shooting the Barrett…"

"That's different. And is that a fucking ACOG on there? Can't wait to see the groups you come up with."

"We'll see." He retrieved the box of ammunition from his bag and went about loading the first clip - something that he probably should have done beforehand. He inserted it into the bottom of the rifle and pulled the bolt back. Looking through the scope, though, he had to admit that Samuel was right. That hundred meter increase from his previous range session was making all the difference in the world. With the tripod keeping him steady, Michael gently squeezed the trigger. The rifle jumped, and in the distance, he could see the large impact in the dirt behind the target.

"Not even close," Samuel stated, causing Nicole to laugh.

"Only about a foot and a half. Lower right," the fire fox said.

"Damn. By that much?"

"Did you change your ammunition?" Samuel asked.

"I think so. I don't recall them being heavier though," Michael said.

"Let me see." He handed the now empty box to the sniper, who looked at it for only a second. "They're 168 grain. A rifle like that tends to favor 150. You can adjust it as you see fit, but they're heavier than they should be."

"Great. So now what?"

"Well you've got what you've got. Go ahead and shoot." Michael adjusted his scope to account for the rightward drift and simply aimed higher than his previous shot. The gunfire echoed out once again, this time landing him a hit on the target. Still a bit towards the right. He pulled the trigger twice in quick succession, landing one hit and barely missing the second one, sending the bullet over the target. He kept at it in his attempt to score multiple hits anywhere on the target in rapid fire, but he was having no such luck.

"Hope you're having better luck at this than I am," Michael said. Samuel was looking over a few things on a notepad to his side, then repositioned himself behind the rifle once again. He experimentally felt the barrel.

"Looks like it's cooled down enough," he stated. "Yours on the other hand… You just went through twenty. Great way to kill a barrel."

"I'll just buy a new one. Now let's see what you've got with that."

"Alright." Samuel adjusted the elevation turret multiple clicks down.

"Well shit, how far are you shooting?" asked Michael.

"I think he might be going for the twenty…" Nicole said.

"Yeah, sure." The sharpshooter eased his finger on the trigger, his breathing coming to a halt. But before he could fire, the loud buzz sounded across the range, and taking the signal, everyone ceased their firing.  
"Of course. Why not?" Samuel asked. He flipped the safety on. "It'll take them about ten minutes to switch out all the targets." While the range staff tended to the replacement of the used targets, the two Reapers decided to make conversation.

"What's the status on your situation?" Samuel asked.

"The therapy bullshit?"

"Mhm."

"That's where I'm headed after this. Hawkins said I've got no choice in the matter."

"That's hard…" Nicole said. "And it's too late for the League…"

"You knew?"

"Yeah," the fire-type replied, "Charlotte told me about it."

"Well then you know exactly why I'm as pissed as I am. We gave all that up so that I could come help again, and now that's been robbed from me."

"I can get that."

"Yep. So one random dude gets to decide what the hell becomes of my future - including whether or not I need medication. And that would earn me a discharge. Not to mention they could confiscate any firearms registered in my name."

"That's not true," Samuel said. "Can't be. My mom was diagnosed with both PTSD and depression and she was still able to buy the hunting rifle. Now if you get checked in to a mental hospital, then it's a different story. I don't see that happening in this case."

"I must've been mistaken then. Well at least that's some good news throughout all this."

"Yeah, but being grounded still does suck though," Samuel said.

"But I don't think you should've hit Alex…" Nicole said.

"Probably not, but he had it coming. Lillian's thunderbolt stung like a bitch though."

"Well you did attack her trainer," she stated.

"If you don't mind me asking, why would Alex think you have PTSD?" Samuel asked. Michael shrugged.

"I've got no clue," Michael replied. "But the girls are actually backing _him_ on this."

"Don't you think they know you better than anyone?" the sniper inquired.

"Well yeah, but it's very well possible they're reading too much into the situation. Maybe I have changed some over the past years, but that doesn't indicate a fucking mental illness."

"Maybe not, but don't you think it might be safer just to find out? Is there any harm in it?" Michael thought it over for a second.

"It's a massive waste of my time, and kinda a huge 'fuck you' when the girls and I just ditched the League for it."

"They'd have done well too," Nicole said.

"I know. The most intimidating guy there was someone we've already beaten before. We could've taken the Indigo League, but I get to sit here and listen to some prick waste his time and break down my mental status."

"Looks like there's nothing you can do about it, so you may as well be honest with him and see if something's wrong," Samuel said. Michael shot him a sideways glare upon hearing this.

"Do you think I have something wrong with me?"

"Never said that."

"Well you kinda implied it," Michael retorted.

"That's not at all what I was going for. But I can't help but wonder… what something actually _is_ off and you just didn't think there was. Don't you think that could be damaging to your relationships? Would you trade the girls for the ability to serve?" The question caught Michael by surprise, and he didn't have an answer for it. Of course he didn't like the idea of trading their happiness for combat. Yet that seemed to be exactly what he was doing. And if he didn't participate, then no doubt he'd always feel guilty for abandoning his comrades to fight an invading force without him.

"I wouldn't, no. It's already taken a strain on my relationship with each of them, so I've agreed to call it quits after this tour. But I am going to do what I came here for. That's where my frustration lies." The ATV pulled up beside them, with the soldier on the back holding the collection of targets that they had been shooting at.

"They're in order from closest to farthest," he said as he handed them the large stack.

"Alright. Thanks." Samuel started rummaging through the pile and found his target of interest. "There we are." His four-hundred meter target had three-shot groups in several different locations. All of them had the rounds all touching one another. "Let's see, looks like maybe a centimeter and a half."

"I'd say that's about right," Nicole said. Meanwhile, Michael's target had bullet holes scattered about. The shots that he had been aiming carefully during were a little better.

"What do you think? Five inches?"

"Centimeters, Michael. Centimeters. You're on base now. Time to drop those damn imperial units," Samuel said.

"Okay smartass. So fourteen centimeters, right?"

"About thirteen. Still not that good, and that's not even covering that rapid fire bullshit. Should've spent the money on a Remington 700 if you wanted a .308."

"Alright, tell me how you really feel."

Soon, the targets had been placed out once again. The moment the vehicles had made their way back behind the firing lines, the buzz sounding once again. "About time," Samuel said, readying his rifle once again.

"You're seriously going for that? That's over a mile away." Michael said.

"You act like I haven't made a shot like that before."

"Yeah, but a .50 BMG is a whole different platform than a .338… That target's made for practice with the Barrett, not a Lapua."

"It'll reach it without a problem. Only question is if I can compensate for drop. Not much wind today, so that shouldn't factor in."

"He's going to hit it," Nicole said.

"I mean if he lobs fifty bullets over there, sure, but—."

"I'll only need three," Samuel stated without looking away from his notepad. Michael couldn't see what his comrade was writing, but he was intently scribbling on the paper while quietly saying a few things to himself. Being that his turrets had already been adjusted for the specified distance, Samuel pushed the bolt forward, ready to fire. He hugged the rifle against him, his finger brushing lightly over the trigger as he stared intensely through the scope. A second passed, and the firearm recoiled harshly against the Reaper's shoulder.

Looking through his ACOG, the target in question was but a small dot in the landscape. Two and a half seconds after the thundering sound, though, a cloud of dirt could be seen far behind the target, ever so slightly to the left of it. "Shit, drift was a little more than expected." He pulled the bolt back, ejecting the empty brass case, and loaded another directly inside. "Two meters. Maybe a half to the right…" There was no warning as he shot once again.

"Got it that time," Nicole said.

"For real?"

"Looks like I only needed two," Samuel stated. Nicole scooted over, allowing Michael to look through the spotting scope. Surely enough, there was an indistinguishable hole in the lower left quadrant, only four inches away from the center.

"Son of a bitch…"

"Told you."

"That you did," Michael admitted. "Just didn't think you'd get it that fast…"

"To be honest, neither did I," Samuel said with a slight laugh.

 **. . . . .**

Michael's time at the range had ended before long, coming to a close when he realized that he would be late in his first appointment if he delayed much longer. With the little bit of good mood that he had managed to create now leaving, he said goodbye to his friends and walked back towards his quarters. Then again, he could definitely scare the shit out of the therapist if he showed up with a semi-automatic .308. The thought brought a slight smile to his face despite his annoyance with the situation.

When he had arrived back at his place, Michael noticed that Alaina and Ver had both recently returned. "You two weren't out long," he said.

"It was just a flight exercise," Alaina said. "Mostly evasive maneuvers."

"You two better not be making any use of those…"

"Alright, whatever you say," the latias replied. "You're going to be late to your session if you don't leave soon…"

"About that - Ver, think I can get a ride over there?" She nodded.

"Okay." The large dragon set her equipment down on the couch and headed for the door.

"Thanks. Saves me a good bit of time." As he closed the door behind him, Ver got down on all fours, ready for him to get on. Truth be told, he didn't ride as often as they once did, so she was probably welcoming of the request. And the moment he mounted her, Michael had to clamp down hard as she lunged into the air. Seconds later she had steadied herself about a hundred meters in the air, where she came to a soft glide.

"Where exactly are we heading?" she asked.

"Right on the edge of the main post," he replied, pointing towards the corner of the large construct. A small series of office buildings bordered it, with one of the rooms being his destination. "What do you think about all this?" he asked as she came to a slow descent.

"The therapy? I don't like it one bit. Not saying that you don't need it… but why would they throw it on you like this? This soon into a tour…"

"Thank you," he said. "If there was a concern, they should have prevented me from coming here in the first place."

"Maybe they didn't think things out. But there's nothing that can be done about it now. It just pisses me off that this is how it all turned out…" the flygon said.

"That makes the two of us." She softly contacted the ground, to which Michael stepped off. "What time will you be out?"

"I have absolutely no clue. You go ahead and join the others. I'll be there as soon as I can." He rubbed along the length of her neck just the way she liked, slowly trailing his hand up and pulling her into a light embrace. "I love you." She returned it without hesitation.

"And I love you. Now go take care of this. I'm sure we can find something fun to do when you get back." He reluctantly let go, looking for her for a moment as if to ask for help. There was nothing he wanted to do less than to walk through those doors, but as of now, there was no other option.

Inside the relatively small hallway, there was little activity, with about seven doors on each side. _Let's see… room 408… Jackson Slater._ He scanned over the plaques outside of the doors, finding the corresponding number to be beside the one door that was slightly open. _Well, here goes nothing…_ Michael walked up to it and slightly knocked on the door.

"Come in," the voice from inside said. It was unusually cheery, which was not what he had expected to hear from a person with such a position. But it also sounded young. The Reaper pushed the door open and walked inside.

A man, maybe in his late twenties, sat behind a neat desk. His desktop computer was on and was displaying some sort of records, likely those of Michael. He had a smaller build, wore casual clothing, and had jet-black hair. An absol was seated by his side, who wore one of the older VFT collars. Not that it mattered with his implants. "Wait a second, I've seen you before…"

"Probably. I'm all over the base. Maybe during a morning jog?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Well as you may have guessed from the sign outside, I'm Jackson, but I usually go by Jax. This here is Arabella." _Kind of a weird nickname to go by…_

"Hello there," she said. "It's kinda weird seeing you here. I heard about you on the news and all. Glad you guys stopped Douglas, or else people like us might be dead now…"

"I'm guessing you two are—."

"Yep," Jax said. "I don't particularly care who knows. But tend to stick away from PDAs, ya know? Last thing I need is some Assembly sympathizer to come knocking at my door…"

"Got that right," Michael replied. "That was a nasty bunch. Every once in awhile you hear something from them, but they're gone for the most part."

"Thankfully." Jax scrolled down on the computer before minimizing the window. "Alright Arabella, sorry to say, but this part has to be done in private."

"Of course." The absol stood up and stretched out before slowly heading for the door. "It was nice meeting you," she said.

"Likewise." She lightly kicked the door shut behind her on her way out. Michael took a seat on his side, while Jax sat there for a moment, straightening out some papers on his desk. A notepad in front of him had a pen resting on it.

"Hope you don't mind the casual setting here. Not too organized as you can see," he chuckled.

"Not really."

"Alright, let's get started then." He held one of the papers in front of him and silently read from it before speaking. "Says here you have five pokémon, one being that latias of yours. All female. Interesting." But regaining his focus, he started the session. "So what have these past years been like for you?"

"What do you mean by that?" Michael asked.

"It's a high stress environment - I'm sure you can agree with that. Moving all over the place, everything being secretive… I'm wondering how all of that has changed you."

"Oh. I don't know. I will admit that it's been a rough ride at times."

"I'm sure. I've read through your files. Military is a huge change from what you were initially set out for, especially when it leads you against your own family," Jax stated.

"I can agree with that."

"Would you say that it's negatively affected your mood? Your thoughts?"

"No, not really."

"I am kind of curious, because I'm reading reports of paranoia and hypervigilance. What do you think about this?"

"It's bullshit," Michael said, "just like this entire process, to be quite honest."

"Oh? Why do you say that?"

"Because all of this has been based upon the statements of one guy, forwarded by my commander. You can't tell me that's a reliable enough set of data to make a diagnosis. But then again, I might be expecting too much. People in my field have always considered psychology to be a pseudo-science of sorts. Looking at how all of this is playing out, I think I'd agree with that position."

"Alright," Jax said with a laugh, "tell me how you really feel."

"I intend to," Michael said. "I want you to think about this for just a minute."

"Okay, I'm listening."

"The girls and I were going to compete in the Indigo League. This time we'd have won it hands down. We've already beaten the expected champion, and now two of my pokémon have military training. And I just had to make the hardest decision of my life in order to come back here and try to fight off a new force of invaders - a group that wants to destroy us from within. And a few days after I get here, I get told that I can't do what I came back for, and that I need 'therapy' just due to accusations of PTSD."

"That does sound frustrating," Jax admitted.

"And to make matters worse, I can't leave. I've enlisted again, so I'm here. But they won't allow me to engage in the very thing I came here to do, and they won't let me out unless I get a discharge. So I can't fight, and I can't go back to the League. Our first battle would have been this afternoon, but we can just fucking forget about that because Alex decided to be an asshole and throw me under the bus."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is it an official diagnosis that you're after?"

"No. And it'd come far too late to actually be able to do anything about the League. It's too late to sign up. I'm here for good. But so help me I better be out there soon."

"What is it that you expect me to do?" Jax asked. "These things take time."

"At least six weeks from what I've read to establish a diagnosis," Michael replied. "Unless, of course, you dismiss the possibility from the very start and let me go on my way."

"You know just as well as I do that I can't do something like that," the therapist stated.

"And you know just as well as I do that's a load of bullshit. In fact, if you write on that little notepad of yours that this is unnecessary and that I'm fine, then they'll take your word for it."

"Dismissing the possibility simply because you asked me to?" Jax asked. "Something like that could cost my license…" It had only taken a few minutes for the conversation to take a negative route.

"Your license? That's what you're worried about when there's a growing insurgency in this country?"

"This is my job - how I stay alive. Of course I'm invested in it."

"Well if that's the case, it's in your best interest to let me outta this whole thing," Michael said.

"Excuse me?" Jax asked.

"Tell me, what do you think the country would do if a decorated war hero was offed just like that because some wannabe scientist decided that he couldn't do it anymore?" Michael could hardly believe the words had come out of his mouth, but as sure as they had, Jax was looking at him in shock. There was no turning back now.

"Are you… threatening me?" he asked.

"Call it what you will. But with everything I've lost, I'm not losing this too. The country needs all of the Reapers now - me included. So you can either get with it or the both of us can go down." The therapist shook his head in disbelief, clearly not having predicted the conversation going in such a manner.

"I've been at this for three years now," Jax said. "That's not too terribly long, but I haven't ever given up on a patient."

"Alright, so we are gonna play this game."

"That's not what I said," he responded. "You didn't let me finish." He got onto his feet and headed over to the door. Jax slowly opened it and looked into the hallway. "Good," he murmured, before shutting it behind him. "I… wasn't expecting you to issue such a threat," he admitted. "That came out of the blue."

"But you must understand why it had to be made. I can't leave this."

"You're afraid," Jax said, "aren't you? That I'll diagnose you."

"That's exactly what you'll do - what _everyone_ seems to want. Like they all know my own mind better than I do. But I'm not giving you that chance. If you pull this trigger, so will I. Take my job and I take yours."

"Well I can't have that."

"Then I guess we're done here," Michael said, getting up from his seat.

"Not so fast," Jax said. _Fuck, what now?_ "I'm not just going to let you go like that."

"You intend to stop me?" Michael asked, grinning from the mere thought of it. "Let's see how that goes."

"No, not like that. What I meant was that I would like to make a proposition with you."

"Really? This seems like a stalemate to me," Michael stated. "What you possibly have to offer me?"

"An actual solution," Jax said. "I'm not interested in canning you from service. I don't like the idea of a guy with potential PTSD with a gun, but my intention is not to take away a career that you love. But I'm not going to sit here while a problem consists. You do realize that if you do so happen to have PTSD and you don't get it treated, you're at a high risk of suicide? Or hurting the ones you love? Is that how you want to treat your pokémon? I mean relationships that have lasted way longer than your all's have been destroyed because of PTSD. Do you want to take that chance with them?"

"What? What do you mean?" Michael asked.

"Oh come on, I've been in this ring much longer than you have. I think I'd know another pokémon lover when I see one." He was completely dumbfounded to hear such words, and for the first time in the exchange, Michael found himself on the defensive side. _How could he know?!_

"What is it that you want me to do?" the Reaper questioned.

"It's simple actually. I'll write down that this whole thing was a waste of time and that you're fine. But in return, you come by here twice a week." He still disliked the very idea of coming here to talk with this man anymore. But he would be back out in the field by the next mission, and perhaps this would appease Alaina's endless nagging about going to get help.

"But you will be handing Hawkins a note saying that I'm perfectly fine, right?"

"Isn't that what I said?" Jax asked.

"Alright then. I want that to be the first thing that I hear tomorrow morning - me being fit for service and all."

"So do we have a deal?" the therapist asked.

"Yeah," Michael said, extending his hand, "I guess we do."


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N:**

 **This update has been long overdue, so I'm glad that I could get it out before Christmas. Hope that the holiday season has been a good one for each of you.  
**

 **Something I'd like to address before this chapter is read is that there is a part where Michael says something against a particular group of people that isn't very nice. He's not meant to be some heroic character to everyone, and his biases are supposed to be made pretty clear over the course of the story. So when this statement comes about, please keep in mind that that's not me being mean, but rather showing how a person such as him typically thinks - which sometimes is not the best.**

 **Also want to point out that now I have started doing one-shots, so feel free to check out that collection and make requests.**

 **"…"** **\- Spoken dialogue**

 _ **Italics**_ **\- Michael's thoughts**

 **' _Italics_ ' - Telepathic dialogue**

 **/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene**

* * *

 **"Way before Watergate, senior administration officials hid behind anonymity."**

 **-Bob Woodward**

* * *

 **Ch. 37 - Searching for Guilt**

"This is a horrible idea," Kevin stated.

"You all have received stealth training unrivaled by any other country. You should be able to pull off a job like this," Colonel Hawkins replied.

"Yeah well this is in the middle of the city, and we don't even know if these guys are guilty of anything. And you just want us to storm in there and look around?"

"You didn't seem to have an issue with it when we were investigating PMC bases back during Stone's time. What's gotten you so against the idea now?"

"Because that was a time of war - that was a special case! But now you're having us break into a building and go through someone else's stuff just because the guys you work for don't like a his political views."

"There is a legitimate need for this. We have no intentions of undermining the campaign efforts of liberal politicians, regardless of how we feel about them. But we are searching every corner of the country until we find out who these people are and where they're hiding. And I'd hate to pull this on you, but you really don't have much of a say in the matter. This is happening whether you like it or not."

"Well do I have to be a part of it?" Kevin asked. Wesley, seeming to have grown tired of debating with the younger Reaper, finally snapped back at him.

"You came back, didn't you? You took up this job again."

"Yeah, to stop some so-called insurrection - not to spy on the current administration's political opponents. This is just flat out fascism, and something I'd expect from Douglas fucking Stone. Not you guys."

"You're sounding like one of those Delta fuckers right now," Thomas stated.

"Stay outta this," Kevin stated. "And as for you, Hawkins, I don't want any part in this absolute bullshit." The Colonel looked back at the heated soldier, completely unfazed.

"You act like you've got a choice," Wesley said. "Truth is, you don't. You agreed to our terms. Took the money and signed that contract. You do what we say when we say it. And as much as I hate to hold that over you, you are making it exceedingly difficult to speak to you any other way than like a child. You're going over there and you _will_ carry out your mission. Am I clear, Werber?" Kevin stared back silently, but eventually upon finding himself trapped, replied with a slight nod. "I understand. You think that this is all political. It's not. International law would eat us alive if they found out that we were trying to illegally undermine opponents. The military has no interest in getting in a global dispute with the other regions over something as trivial as a few senators' elections. But we do have every right… no, every _obligation_ , to intervene when a group of people calls for the death of our country and doesn't mind flooding it with drugs and prostitution to pay for a resistance."

"Anyways, what'll we be using?" asked John, probably in an attempt to change the subject. Wesley seemed to think it a good idea, as he immediately shifted his focus.

"Same primary as usual. Your MP5s have now been fitted with vertical foregrips. As for the pistols, as you all are surely aware, there's been an increasing push towards 9mm. The army just adopted the P320 as its main sidearm."

"We don't have to use their stuff. And we don't. Are we clear to keep the .45?" Michael asked. Admittedly it had become one of his favorite pistol calibers.

"I want you guys to get used to using the Glock 19 for some time," Hawkins replied. "I know you all can shoot it well, and I do like the increased capacity."

"Damn. I just don't like the way it feels," Michael flatly stated.

"Keep in mind you'll be using fifth generation models. The ergonomics improved a lot with the removal of the finger grooves. But aside from all that, is everyone on board?" Wesley asked. After receiving their confirmations - albeit one of them being reluctantly - he continued. "Alright. We will be investigating Senator Callahan's offices tomorrow night. Be ready to leave by eight."

After the six of them had been dismissed, Michael checked the time. He had to uphold his end of the bargain within another half hour. But as long as he was able to do what he had come here to do in the first place, then that was alright with him. And if Jax went back on his deal and somehow did reach a negative diagnosis, then the Reaper could always utilize his leverage. But that wasn't to say that the therapist didn't have leverage of his own; how he had discovered of Michael's attraction to his own pokémon was beyond him, though he did suppose that sometimes he didn't hide the signs the best. But anyone else that knew of him would've overlooked gestures of that nature - surely a war hero in a country such as Johto would never be into such things. No matter which way he looked at it, either one of them stepping out of line could result in mutually assured destruction.

"Where are you headed off to?" Zaire asked. "The others are headed that way."

"The others don't have to go to some bullshit therapy session."

"What? I thought you got outta that whole thing," she said in confusion.

"For the most part. But we've come to an arrangement. I've agreed to still meet with him twice a week."

"Well maybe that's for the best. We wouldn't want a crazed Reaper out there, now would we?" He looked over at her, completely unamused.

"You think you're funny, don't you?"

"Pretty much, yeah," she chuckled.

"Is there any way I can convince you to go bother someone else?" he asked.

"Nope, you're more fun. Besides, the others aren't as thin-skinned as you are."

"Alright, whatever you say." He had just about reached the exit of the central building, to which he'd take the first door outside to get into that short yet dreaded hallway once again.

"You're off already? Well have fun in there." _Go fuck yourself,_ he thought as he went outside. He didn't know which he disliked more, honestly - the therapy or this absolute joke of a partner that they had been assigned. Had he known all this would happen, Michael probably would not have signed up again. _But what's done is done. No going back now._ He knocked rather abruptly on Jax's door, which was shut this time. _Huh, didn't bother to show up for the appointment he scheduled? Seems professional._

"You have a visitor Jackie!" a voice from within said.

"Oh shut up. Come in! Door's unlocked!" Jax said.

"No, don't!" the female voice yelled back. "You can't come in unless you know the password!" He pushed the door open, to the dismay of the raichu. "Well you're no fun at all," she huffed.

"My idea of fun doesn't include being here for a start," Michael said.

"Jeez, you're a stick in the mud…"

"That's enough Kyra. Why don't you give Mr. Grim and I some privacy?"

"Okay, fine. Have fun putting up with that." Michael just ignored the comment, glad to hear the sound of the door shutting behind him.

"Sorry about that…" Jax said.

"How many pokémon do you have?" Michael asked.

"Three. The other one is my nidoqueen. I'm sure you'll see her in here a time or two. I'm guessing you're familiar with the whole concept of alternating days. It becomes necessary once you have more than two."

"Yeah, I can get that…"

"But anyways, what do you say we get started? I doubt this session should take too long. Mainly I want to get some information about your past." Michael nodded, hoping that he was right about that.

"Alright. Where do you want to start?"

"Your childhood - what was it like?"

"Busy," Michael stated, matter-of-factly. "I got shipped off to Kalos for my education. They put all of us through the grinder until I graduated. Alex and I were roommates throughout our time there. Only friend I really made during that time."

"Your parents? Did they keep in contact?' asked Jax.

"Oh, that's a fun rabbit hole to go down. But yeah, they did, and just about every night, too."

"Did you have a good relationship with them until… you know…"

"Yeah, I'd say I did. Or at least an average one with them. It hurt finding out what my dad did, if that's any indicator. But I got over it pretty quickly afterwards." And that had been the truth.

"Really? I find that interesting. Care to elaborate?"

"Well I'd devoted every fiber of my being to killing terrorists. I wasn't about to put those ideals aside just because my dad happened to be a leader among them. And besides, the girls had been more of a family to me in their three years of knowing me up to that point than my family had been in my entire life. My mother decided to side with him just because of the fact that she was content in how her life was. She didn't seem to give a fuck about the fact that her husband had been responsible for the deaths of countless people. So no, I don't feel a shred of pain over my choice to put a bullet in Ethan or cut her out of my life."

"Well damn," Jax said, "guess that answers that…" He wrote a few things down on his paper, focusing intently as he did so. It was positioned in an angle in which Michael could not see its contents, much to his annoyance. "What about the incident in Hoenn?"

"What about it?" Michael asked.

"You were the first human at the scene. Does that incident still weigh heavily on your mind?"

"I thought I'd always see their faces," he admitted. "Until you see something like that, you can't even imagine that many dead people in one place. But over time things faded away. It doesn't trouble me now."

"Is that why you decided to join the Reapers? From what it looks like, you were engaged in a campaign to take on the Hoenn League. You stopped halfway."

"Shit, you can even see how many badges I have?" Michael asked with a laugh.

"If it's registered, odds are we've got access to it," Jax replied.

"Including weapons?" Michael asked. "If that's the case, you'd better lose that fucking list right away."

"No, I don't know what guns you own. But I'm assuming it's a lot…"

"Anyways," Michael said, changing the subject, "what else do you need?"

"Not too much. Just a few more questions."

"Alright, shoot."

"I am pretty curious about the incident at Chrono Island."

"Aren't they all?"

"Sure you get asked about it a good bit. But it would be helpful for the purpose of our discussion. If you don't want to talk about it, that's also fine." At least Jax held some reservations about this whole process, which did bring some comfort to mind.

"Nah, it's fine. Just haven't really talked about it a whole lot. Even the girls didn't really ask much of what happened there. Must've figured that it'd been pretty bad, and they knew about Raptor…"

"Raptor was the sceptile that helped you escape, correct?"

"That's right…"

"You sound like you'd gotten close to her…" Jax said.

"I guess so. I'd really only gotten to know her for a few days, but I saw something in her. She had a lot of good in her - it was _her_ who brought that whole thing down on Stone's head. But I was the one to walk away from it all… I got to feel the fucking life leave her body…"

"Damn… I can't imagine what that must have felt like…"

"I didn't want to believe that it happened. I tried everything I could to get her breathing again, but she'd lost all the blood in her body through that bullet hole. It was stupid, I know…"

"No, it was natural. I'm sorry that there was nothing you could do."

"It just is what it is. Wasn't the first time something like that had happened. Only with Zeke, he'd been dead for ten minutes since I'd come to the scene. Got to see my friend's fucking chest cavity opened up." He looked up at the therapist and shook his head. "It's not supposed to happen that way… We have the best training and limitless resources. We're supposed to be the ones to survive… But he died there and just like with Raptor there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it…"

"How do you feel now about those things?" the therapist asked.

"I guess I've moved along the best way I can. I still visit their graves. Say hello and all, hoping that the two of 'em are listening. Of course I have yet to hear a response…"

"Know how ya feel there."

"You lost someone too?" Michael asked.

"Yeah. Truth is, the Hoenn Massacre led me into my profession as well. Or rather, redirected it. I was already majoring in psychology when I'd heard that my brother had been confirmed as one of the casualties… He'd been missing for months shortly after getting a new job there. Guess he also got targeted for his beliefs. Whatever the case was, it does brings me closure to know that the man responsible has been taken care of."

"Not gonna lie, after all he'd done… it felt good pushing that knife into his chest. But yet he didn't seem hurt by it. He just… accepted it. It was like he was already dead. I remember that like I'd seen it yesterday…"

"If you don't mind me asking," Jax said, "do you have flashbacks of these incidents? Or nightmares?" Michael hesitated.

"No," he said flatly. "I don't dream much."

"Seems like a good sign. Sometimes it's best that the past stays in the past," Jax replied. "I feel like we've covered enough today, wouldn't you say so?"

"Yeah, I'd say so."

 **. . . . .**

When the session had ended, Michael headed back to his place to change into some gym clothes. Of course, the first thing the girls wanted to know was how the whole thing had gone. He skimmed over the topics of their conversation, explaining how this time they had mostly covered some details about his time in the service. "How is he?" Alaina asked.

"Jax? He's alright from what I can tell. I find it annoying even being there, but then again I have to put up with Zaire. I guess I'd rather take therapy than associate with her any day of the week."

"Come on now," Charlotte said, "Zaire can't be that bad. Just give her a chance. She might actually be really fun to be around."

"If by fun you mean making me want to beat my head against a wall, then yeah. I don't even know why they felt that we needed another CIC recruit. Especially a fucking zoroark."

"Michael," Alaina said, "you can't hold what happened to Zeke, or the decision of the CIC for that matter, against her. She probably was just told that she'd been assigned to your team. She might not have had a say in the matter…"

"I couldn't care less what she has to say about it. Maybe if she wasn't as big a pain in the ass, then I'd be willing to let it slide," he said.

"Just take it easy on her," Alaina said. "She has done nothing to you aside from trying to associate with you."

"Wish she'd stop trying if this is how she is."

"Whatever. Just don't be rude to her anymore, alright?" the latias said. "But I am glad that you have agreed with the therapist to the sessions."

"Call it what you will. It wasn't an agreement that I exactly had a choice in making."

"What do you mean?" Layla asked.

"Well he agreed to give me clearance from a PTSD diagnosis if I came twice a week. And had things not gone my way, I could always use my leverage in this country to ruin his job."

"You wouldn't dare do something like that," Alaina stated. "Even saying such a thing is wrong and you know it."

"Not as wrong as putting up with all this bullshit. And besides, it's a stalemate. He somehow knew about my relationship with you all."

"What?" Charlotte asked. "But… I didn't say anything… No one here would…"

"I know," Michael replied, "I think he must've seen some sort of affectionate gesture or something. I don't know how, but he knows. Said that he'd recognize another pokémon lover anywhere."

"So he's one as well?" Layla asked. "That's interesting…"

"I know. He isn't military by any means, but I still can't believe how many damn people I know in these relationships. I mean for fuck's sake, half of our damn team is into it. _Half_. And you _never_ hear of Reapers engaging in stuff like that. Hell, most of them settle down with a human girl that ends up divorcing them…"

"Yeah, I can see how it would be hard," Charlotte said. "I mean if we couldn't be here… if we had to wait at some place away from you while you stayed out and fought for almost a year… I don't know how our relationship would be able to cope…"

"Never could figure out why the military allowed soldiers' pokémon to stay," Michael said. "It didn't use to be like that. My guess is they may have figured that it would draw more pokémon to the service, and that's not wrong. I mean two of you signed up, and that alone is worth more than the costs of accommodating everyone here."

"True. And I enjoy EMT," Ver said. "I'm pretty good at it."

"Yeah. Anyways, we're getting off topic here," Layla said. "So how long will you be going to therapy?"

"No clue. I probably should have gotten that part specified…"

"Oh well. Just keep going, alright? I think it's good that you at least talk to him," the latias said.

"I'll give him that six week time limit. At that point, I'm going to speak up about a time limit for this whole mess." Figuring that there wasn't really much more to say in the conversation at hand, Michael went back to his room and changed into some gym shorts and a t-shirt. Today would be arm day, so it would be nice if he could get Ver to spot him for benching. Layla always tagged along, but in the case that he couldn't lift the weight, there was no chance that the lucario would be able to really help him. As powerful as the species was, their strength did not reside in muscle mass, but rather in the speed and ferocity of their attacks.

"Getting ready to go to the gym?" his braixen asked.

"Yeah. Haven't been in a week, so I've got to. Anyone wanna tag along?"

"You know it," Layla said as she hopped up from the couch.

"Ver?" he asked.

"Hmm? Sure. Maybe someone there will be looking for a battle."

"You'd enjoy that I'm sure," Micael said. "Alright, let's head out. I'll see the rest of you before dinnertime."

He walked outside with the two of them, with Ver closing the door behind. "Think you'll need a spotter?" Ver asked.

"Probably. Just to be safe."

"Alright. Haven't been to the gym here yet. Hope they have a big field."

"Oh they will. It's right outside the weight room. I saw them training there when we flew the other day."

Once they'd arrived at the gym, they found it to be relatively empty. But then again, not many people would be at such a place at three in the afternoon. Either late lunch or drill. Of course, they weren't complaining at all; this was much more preferable.

"Hey," Layla said, "wanna have a sparring match? We haven't done one in awhile."

"Eh, sure. But we'd better do that before I bench," Michael replied. "Best two out of three?"

"Yeah, let's do it!" She hopped inside of the ring, which was as usual located towards the center of the gym. The lucario waited there impatiently as he climbed inside with her. "Alright, let's see if you've forgotten anything since last time."

"Doubtful," Michael said as he got in his boxing stance. She eased her way closer, and he intently watched every motion. His breathing was calm, his mind focused. The first sign of a twitch on her part, and he immediately lowered his left arm to block the strike. He immediately fired back and struck towards her shoulder. Right as she dodged the punch, Michael followed it up with a harsh front kick to her stomach. Though such a move never really caused damage, it did put distance between the two of them. But as soon as she had been pushed back, Layla closed the distance between the two of them once again.

As she was nearly a foot and a half shorter than him, all of her blows were aimed torso-level. A roundhouse kick was sent towards his ribs, something that Michael could always counter. He took the swift kick, immediately pulling his left arm down and pinning her leg against him as he kicked her other leg out from under her. Before she could react he was on top of her.

"Dammit," she muttered. "Alright, that was my own fault."

"Ready to go again?" He extended his hand, which she took.

"Yeah, just gimme a second." She regained her footing and backed herself up outside of his range. Getting back into her fighting stance, she waited for him to make a move. _Alright, guess I'll attack first this time._ Michael thrust his left hand forth, and as she went to block, followed it up with a right hook towards her shoulder. Layla blocked both strikes as quickly as he had launched them, something both of them knew would not last long with his sheer strength advantage.

Layla responded with a front kick to his abdomen, and though it didn't have much of an effect on him, it did cause for him to back up, giving her the relief she needed. The female lucario took the opportunity to run up to him and slide between his legs, punching the back of his knee before he could respond. Michael fell to his knee, and Layla took her chance. She placed her foot on the very same spot and swiftly locked both arms around his throat, squeezing tightly.

"Gotcha this time!" she said proudly. Michael instinctively had both hands to his neck, pulling at her arms.

"Haven't you… learned yet?" He asked through stuttering breaths. "Headlocks… are horrible ideas…" He pivoted to his right, holding onto both of her arms and slinging her over his shoulder and harshly onto the floor. She impacted with a loud thud, her body remaining completely still. _Wait…shit_ … "Layla…"

"Michael what the fuck?!" Ver yelled.

"I didn't _mean_ to knock her out," Michael said defensively. He gently scooped her limp body up in his hands and got back onto his feet.

"You were too rough, dammit!"

"Look, it was an accident, okay? You think I'd hurt her on purpose?!" he asked in annoyance as he climbed out of the ring.

"Not on purpose - but you were careless," she said angrily. Her chest was rising and falling steadily, and she almost looked content. But there was no doubting the fact that she was out cold. Michael sat with his back to the boxing ring, placing his hand on her head. Of all the times that the two of them had sparred, nothing like this had ever happened.

"I hope she doesn't get pissed when she wakes up…"

"Why would she be upset about her trainer knocking her unconscious?" Ver asked.

"Alright, dammit, I get it. Now fuck off with that shit, alright?" Veronica recoiled away from his tone, and he realized that he'd messed up twice in but a few minutes. "Look… I'm sorry… I didn't mean it…"

"Oh I think you did," she quietly said. "Hope you can bench without a spotter. Now give her to me." Wordlessly, he allowed the flygon to take the unconscious lucario from his arms, to which she turned away without another look in his direction.

 **. . . . .**

"Nothing here," John said, gently shutting the empty drawer. The cameras inside of the room had already been taken care of, and they were continuously looping over the same few seconds. Alex and Samuel were dealing with the computers and simply dowloaded all stored files, while the others searched for various other forms of evidence. Though they weren't wearing their masks, as being seen doing such task would undoubtedly look bad on the Reapers, they had night vision sets with several small cameras fitted on them. A single glance at a paper was enough for them to obtain its information back at base, where analysis was being carried out in real time. Though it was kind of odd being dressed like some sort of elite burglar…

Of course, the work here was uneventful and boring. Zaire hummed to herself as she flipped through papers in the file cabinet towards the corner. Michael looked over miscellaneous notes on an aide's desk, seeing not much of interest aside from receipts and random memos, and being careful to not alter the placement of anything.

"This whole thing's been nothing but a bust," Kevin said. "I doubt there's anything in this building."

"Keep searching," Hawkins instructed. "We need to be absolutely sure."

"Or maybe we could accept the fact that just because we don't like someone's ideology, that doesn't make them a criminal," he countered.

"Not now Kevin," the Colonel replied. _I swear, just the shut the fuck up with it already and get to work,_ Michael thought. A small post-it note stood out to him, simply reading: Lunch with PM on Thursday. He picked it up, keeping its original location in mind.

"Look like anything special?" Michael asked as he held it up.

"No telling. We'll be keeping tabs on him, so we'll see soon enough."

"Finished up with the computers," Alex stated. "How much longer do you think we'll need?"

"Probably only ten more minutes. You guys have pretty much turned the place upside down."

"Good. This wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I was told I'd be joining the Reapers," Zaire said. "I'd rather there be a little more action."

"Well then you're stupid," Michael replied. "You _want_ to be in a firefight? Being the only one shooting is one thing, but once bullets start flying around you it quickly goes to hell."

"Nothing you can't handle, right? So surely a strong pokémon like myself will do just fine," she said snootily, though her voice was not without humor.

"Sure, whatever you say." Maybe if he was lucky, the next firefight would result in her getting capped somewhere non-fatally. That might change her tone about it.

"It's like I work with fucking kids," John said to the side.

"He started it," Zaire said jokingly, playing into the situation. _And if you don't shut the fuck up, I'm gonna end it too._

"You two shut up," Samuel said, "I think I found something."

"What?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah, definitely," the sniper said. "Looks like a ledger."

"Good," replied Wesley, "that's the kind of shit we came for. Look over it all. Be sure to get a good shot of each page." Samuel went about doing just that, and it wasn't long before he spoke up.

"Holy shit, this guy blows through about as much money as Douglas fucking Stone," Samuel said as he slowly flipped through the pages.

"Not quite, but those amounts are raising a couple questions," Hawkins stated.

"I get big city politician and all, but what the fuck is up with half a million in travel? He's campaigning right here…"

"Also not liking the looks of all those abbreviations," the Colonel added.

"Well there ya go," Zaire said. "It sounds like you've got your guy."

"Not necessarily. This isn't exactly someone we can just snatch up and interrogate. We're talking about the leading liberal politician in Johto, so it's going to take a lot more precision than that. My guess is that we'll be watching over him for at least another month or two. We have to catch him explicitly dealing with Delta to confirm our suspicions. A bunch of abbreviated text isn't enough by a long shot," replied Hawkins. Michael took a seat in the office chair, figuring that there was nothing more he could do. It only took one person to flip through a book.

"So we're pretty much done here?" the zoroark asked.

"Once Samuel finishes up there, yes."

"Good," she said, before taking a seat on the floor. Of course, it didn't take her long to find something else to say. "So I've been kinda curious... there've been a few rumors going around about this squad in particular…"

"Rumors? What kind?" John asked.

"Well there's some word out there that some of you are into pokémon. Like _really_ into them," she said with a laugh. "Is that true?"

"That's kinda a weird way to put it," Samuel said.

"Does that mean you're one of them?" she asked.

"Nicole - my ninetales - and I have had a relationship for a few years now. The fact that she happens to be a pokémon doesn't matter in my opinion," Samuel replied without looking up from the ledger.

"Oh wow. And you guys don't give him shit about that? You never hear of a Reaper being into something like that."

"I dunno why anyone here would give him trouble about it," Kevin said. "Not when half the squad is just like him."

"No shit?" she asked. "Who else?" Michael looked at Kevin and shook his head. The blonde-haired soldier must have gotten the message.

"Not my place. If they want you to know, they'll let you know."

"Oh come on - not like I'll give ya a hard time about it. I think it's fine. I'm just kinda curious, that's all. And plus there's only six of you. It won't be any trouble to find out."

"Enough of that," Thomas said. "Plenty of time be prodding around in our personal lives after this. Let's get the hell outta here." Samuel had slid the ledger back into the file cabinet and had placed everything else back in its respective spot. Alex headed for the door, ready to reengage the security system. It was only a minute before everyone else joined him, and the Reapers silently disappeared from the scene.

 **. . . . .**

Once he had entered his quarters, Michael had noticed that nearly everyone was out and about. Alaina was cooking, as she did just about every morning. Layla was carrying plates to the table and walked towards her. "Hey…"

"Hey," she said, setting them down, "how did the mission go?"

"We think we got the intel we were after. Not sure yet, though. How are you feeling?"

"Oh, you know I'm fine. Ver was only being overprotective as usual. We've already spoken about it and she's calmed down now. It was just an accident. And besides, it's not like any damage would've lasted long anyways."

"Yeah, just wish she'd get that. I'd never hurt you or the others like that on purpose."

"I know. And she does too. She just rages before she actually thinks stuff through. But that's just her."

"Yep. Where is she now?"

"Out flying," the lucario said, setting all the plates on the table. He helped her set them accordingly.

"Think she'll be back soon?" He did want to set things straight with the flygon. Michael never liked it when one of the girls was upset with him.

"Probably. Like she would ever pass up eating."

Sure enough, as everyone was about to sit down, Veronica opened the door. "Hey everyone," she said, "brought a guest." _What?_

"Really?" Alaina asked. "And who might that be?"

"Hello!" that signature voice said. _Really? Are you fucking serious right now?_ The zoroark joined the large dragon inside the room, much to Michael's irritation.

"Oh it's you again," Layla said. "Zaire, right?"

"Mhm."

"I met her on the way back," Ver stated. "We struck up a conversation. Come to find out we're neighbors, and also she's a part of the Twenty-Fifth now. I thought it'd be great to sit down and talk a bit."

"Of course," Alaina said, "and I always seem to cook more than enough. Go ahead and take a seat," she told the zoroark.

"Well thank you," Zaire replied. "I suck at cooking, so this is a nice surprise." _Anything but,_ Michael thought. She looked over everyone as Alaina levitated the food onto the table, and then came to the realization. "Holy crap, there's no way…"

"What?" Elise asked.

"All of you are female…" she said, shaking her head. But that wolfish grin was impossible to ignore, and Michael immediately knew that she'd figured it out. "You would have been the _last_ person I would've suspected."

"Suspected of what?" the glaceon asked innocently.

"Michael, Michael, Michael…" she trailed off. "There's no way you can tell me you have a full team of females and you aren't into pokémon."

"I had a male member once…"

"Okay, but someone doesn't get a five-to-one ratio of females on their team naturally."

"That's not true," Charlotte said, "we were all a part of his team way before—." She cut herself off upon realizing where she was headed.

"Ha! So it is true! Tell me," she said, barely containing her laughter, "is it all of you?!"

"Zaire, you are being quite loud…" Alaina said.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But you gotta admit this is hysterical!"

"Why does it matter that we are intimate with him?"

"Oh it doesn't - I'm supportive of it. But he's all stoic and nonemotional, and come to find out back at home he's got himself a little harem going on!"

"Do _not_ call it that," Michael stated harshly. "That's not at all what's going on here."

"Really? And what else would you call it?"

"Look, are you gonna eat or what?" He was starting to dislike the zoroark more and more each day.

"Of course - this all looks great," she replied, starting to put food onto her plate.

"Thank you," Alaina said. "I do my best." She made eye contact with Michael, noticing that he was more than irritated by the situation. She just nodded as if saying 'just try to be nice.'

"Look, I'd better not hear that you've gone out and told anybody that. It's still a secret for the most part, and it better stay like that."

"Of course," Zaire stated, "I'd never throw a friend under the bus like that." _Friend? As if._ "So anyways, are y'all into battling?"

"Oh you could definitely say that," Charlotte said. "Had it not been for this tour, we'd be in the Indigo League right now. The expected winner is already someone we've beaten before."

"Wow, that's neat. I'm pretty good at it myself, though there's a difference between military and league combat. They get so pissed off if you do a single move they don't like."

"What do you mean?" asked the braixen.

"Well obviously the quickest way to bring a guy down is to hit below the belt."

"Oh…"

"Yeah, and try that there and you get disqualified. But true combat doesn't give a shit about fair fighting."

"Got that right," Ver stated. Michael had to agree - Douglas had almost done him in by a series of similar moves.

"Language please," Alaina said.

"Oh, sh— I mean my bad…" Zaire replied, causing Layla to laugh. "Wait… Michael swears all the time… Kinda comes with the job…"

"We're working on that," the latias said. "Right Michael?"

"Sure."

 **. . . . .**

The sky was bright and moving, the orange light invading every corner of the island. The explosion that he had caused lingered throughout the air, and those it had consumed walked beneath it as though nothing was amiss. _Great, here again…_

"Yeah. Part of you will always be here, just like me." Douglas had made his way to the Reaper's side, standing in front of the crumbling base. "I'm glad to hear that Johto is finally deciding to fight Delta. They were a pain in my ass too."

"Well sorry to disappoint, but I'm sure we'll manage to do it without the genocide."

"Probably. Some sort of legal bullshit will get in your way, and you'll just throw a few people in prison. Maybe cap one or two. But they'll be back, just like they always are. As much as I hate them, I'll give 'em that. Liberals are persistent."

"What makes you think they'll come back?" Michael asked.

"Because it's in their nature. I'm sure you guys will crack down on Callahan and take him out of the ring. Purge his list of contacts. But you'll stop at the borders of Johto, and it won't be long before Delta will send more people. They won't stop until they've taken over and created a global society. So you either destroy the root of the problem or just get used to fighting them over and over again. I realized this unfortunate truth when I was engaging in my vision."

"And why exactly do you think we won't chase their asses wherever they're hiding?" the Reaper inquired. "We chased you all over the place."

"No, you chased me into Kanto, and that was only because they wanted your help. The government was terrified and gave the CIC a green light to do whatever. Only because I was a right-winged revolutionary. But now you get to deal with the other side. Tell me, has Kalos asked for your help? Unova? They _support_ what Team Delta stands for. They don't want you over there, taking out a group that they're so fond of. My guess is that most of their politicians are working with 'em. Only way you take Delta out is rip out the very heart."

"I think our generals know what they're doing. I'll let them do the planning and not some dead terrorist."

"Do what you will. But know that there's only one way to silence this threat. If you aren't willing to go through with it, then don't be surprised when you find yourself fighting the same wars over and over again. If a war's worth fighting, then it's worth fighting the right way."

"It'll be a cold day in hell before I decide to take your advice. You're just a deranged murderer."

"It's all a matter of perspective," Douglas replied. "Really, the only difference between a terrorist and a revolutionary is the person you ask. Had we won, history would've looked back on us favorably. And if Delta wins now, the same can be said about them. They happen to be revolutionaries contrary to what we fought for. I'm sure they think they're doing what's best, but anyone with even a basic understanding of human workings or economics knows that they're just going to cause more turmoil. See, a liberal cannot exist without there being a conflict of some sort. Whether its men against women, rich versus poor, race against race… they cannot accept the fact that their demand for discrimination is no longer being met. They must convince people that they are victims - that they are being oppressed and need to vote in some leftist to fix the problem."

"I… look, whether or not agree with that, that doesn't change the fact that you didn't care that you were about to nuke millions of innocent people just to forward your vision," Michael said.

"And I would have paid for it, too."

"You did. Cost you your life."

"That is true," the insurgent stated. "But I needed to subdue by intimidation. They wouldn't have struck back - they don't possess the military might or the courage to do such a thing. And by striking fear into the hearts of the masses at the expense of a few, I can spare more people in the long run. Besides, what separates my actions from those of the monarchs of ancient history? A new, modern understanding of morality? Or maybe your sect of religion?"

"Well I can't see a world under your ideals being any better than the one we have now. You would've had pokémon practically enslaved again."

"What would give you that idea? Was it because a pissed-off sceptile just so happened to feel that way? Or is it your own lust for the animals that clouds your judgement?"

"It's not lust," Michael said in annoyance, "and they aren't animals."

"Well whatever it is you consider them to be. Pokémon are essential tools to our society. They were invaluable parts of my own missions as well. But as a human, I am only obligated to assist those in my own species."

"So just because they look different than us, they aren't worth protecting? Or even considering as equals?"

"But they aren't. If they were equals, then maybe they wouldn't be naturally living in the dirt and in caves. Explain to me how a species without powers is able to dominate the planet if they are not naturally superior. They may share our emotions - perhaps even our intellect - but they do not share our drive. Our sheer will to succeed and thrive. So if a conflict between the two were to arise, of course I'd have sided with my own," said Douglas.

"There didn't need to be a conflict. You'd have been causing an issue that didn't need to exist. You're just a monster. Nothing more, nothing less," Michael stated.

"That's also a matter of perception," replied the terrorist. He walked over to where the walls of his compound once stood, all but a few cracked fragments still remaining. The rest of the island was devoid of life, and what hadn't been vaporized was still on fire. "You know, there are tens of millions of people alive right now that think you're a monster - all because you think that, say, being a faggot is wrong. You don't hold their views, and you are someone they could do without. Funny, a lot of those people are only alive because you stopped me."

"And just like I told you three years ago," Michael said, "that's on them. If that's the way they wanna live, then let 'em. Not my problem if they join you in hell. Actually, it's kinda funny. You and your men get to be surrounded by the people you hated most."

"And perhaps that's my punishment for my role in it all," he admitted. "But I'd do it over again. I failed in my pursuit of a better world, but at least I held the disease off long enough so that a more capable force could inherit the fight. Let me tell you, if Johto wanted to… you all could take it all."

"Too bad for you that we won't," Michael replied.

"Don't be so sure. Times change - these last few years should've proven that to you." He looked up into the sky, where a pink light had cut through the flames. "It looks like our time is up for now. I will be seeing you soon." With that, the image of the terrorist and all of his men faded before him as a gentle feeling took ahold of his mind.

He slowly opened his eyes, seeing Alaina staring back at him. "Michael?" she asked quietly. "You were having one of those nightmares again, weren't you?"

"It's just a dumb dream," he replied. "Thanks, though." He looked at her questioningly, though it was dark. "That was you, right? How'd you do that?"

"Dream synch, remember? Though it has been awhile. I couldn't see what you were dreaming, though. It was like there were iron walls around your mind. It must have been bad…"

"Nothing real bad. Just _him_ again."

"Oh," Alaina said with a whisper. "I don't understand. He cannot have any form of contact with you - not where he is. I don't know how you keep seeing him like this..."

"Beats me. But I'm getting pretty tired of it. The best thing I ever did second to meeting you girls was thrust that knife into his chest. But he can't seem to leave me be, no matter what…" The latias placed her hand on his chest, rubbing him softly.

"Well… whatever it is, I'm getting tired of it. I feel like I enjoy speaking to a dead terrorist about as much as anyone else would."

"I'm sure. He was an unpleasant one."

"To say the least." He slipped his arm underneath her, and she repositioned herself to be closer, ending up resting half her body on his chest. "I know I've messed up a time or two," he admitted, "but killing him wasn't one of those times."

"He would have killed countless people. The taking of a life is not something to be celebrated, but… sometimes it is necessary…"

"Yeah." Michael rubbed his hands along the length of her neck, ending when he cupped her cheek. He gently pecked her lips, earning a soft kiss from the dragoness in return. They stayed that way for a few moments, their kisses not being too intense, but passionate nonetheless. "I love you," he said.

"I know," she giggled. "What's not to love about a powerful legendary in your bed?"

"I dunno, tell me when you find one." He shielded himself from the pillow that she had grabbed, laughing as the latias assaulted him with it.

"I'm going to make you pay for that!" she teased.


End file.
